said Ron Weasley, confronted by several zillion appalling spiders in ( I think) the second Harry Potter film...
He was having to confront a phobia-gone-mad, out of all proportion to any likely reality.
I am currently reminding myself of that, as my wilder flights of maternal imagination threaten to overwhelm me.
DarlingDaughter (who should perhaps be renamed TeaThaim girl now, in deference to her travel blog?) left Thailand, and arrived in Hong Kong yesterday, a couple of days early, as she was desperate to see Yeti perform there (no, I don't know anything about them either). After all sorts of to-ing and fro-ing those nice people at LastMinute.com have promised full refund of the ticket she won't be using, and everything ought to be fine, except that the friends with whom she's staying don't return home to HK till Monday. Leaving L on her own in a city where she knows no-one for 4 days that show signs of feeling like years. I know she's sensible. I know she's learning and growing in every respect through this trip. But in the final analysis, I'm her mother and she's on the other side of the world with no support structure in place at all. A very perturbing text this morning didn't improve things, - though it turns out that it's not as scary in terms of L as it sounded at first. I'm just finding it rather difficult, really, and hoping that a squeaky blog post will help me to put the panic away while I try to write a sermon for evensong. Jeremiah and Romans. Perhaps I do need to panic after all!