This time next week I’ll be on Bribie Island Queensland, with the sunshine and easter eggs and the knowledge that family is damned near everything I need in this world. The weekend after that I’ll be on a plane to England where for a few weeks I’ll be researching aspects of WW1 in the New Forest. I’ll be looking at the lives of soldiers who trained to kill on the Salisbury Plains and the ones who were brought back to life by New Zealand nurses in a New Zealand hospital in the peaceful village of Brockenhurst. At Brockenhurst on April 22nd, I’ll be attending my 4th (or possibly 5th) Anzac Day commemoration in the churchyard of St Nicholas Church, This is where 93 New Zealand soldiers are interred. And I know I’ll be unable to sing my anthem beyond the 2nd stanza because I’ll want to cry. These things, spread out across the world, are what make my life worthwhile. My family, my friends, my love of writing and knowing that I owe everything to those who came before me.