I have far too much to do, and blogs should not be written at all until I have worked my way through the latest list of nonsense. I find that a long list with an oversized red tick every time I achieve finishing something involving repetitive tedium, can be motivating and make me feel smug and pleased in the evening. However my motivation today went as far as screwing it into a brown paper ball and kicking it down the stairs in order to entertain my elderly cat. I have enhanced cabin fever due to everybody being ill.
The wretched virus that is currently rampaging the UK... the one that gives people a hacking cough and a sore throat and pretends to go away every three days only to return with renewed vigour has hit our house. We are in the fourth week of it. My husband feels vile and as usual has turned it into a psychiatric man flu issue, and feels that due to how brain dead he feels , that this is the right time to try and catch up on at least 25 lengthy written reports that have long gone past their deadlines. This has made him super bad tempered and less tolerant of my dreadful jokes. I have gone into super special dinners overdrive. I don't get the virus so only a vile reaction. Due to everybody having sore throats I am reacting in my usual predictable and spectacular way. I am covered in head to toe in Psoriarsis and blisters and can't wear many clothes.
My transition daily for the last two weeks from a bath tub full of dead sea salts and lavender, via a whole tube of aloe vera, followed by an application of neat coconut fat, and into a super soft cotton neon striped onesie have not gone unnoticed in my neighbourhood. I have so far frightened several post men, alarmed a variety of people delivering parcels, horrified the supermarket delivery man, who's glasses steamed up. The final act of defiance was dragging my bin out to the front and encountering some rather straight laced neighbours who seemed puzzled that a middle aged woman would go outside in such apparel. This was made worse by the fact that I ended up on the pavement as I should not have been dragging the bin in such an inflamed state. I am also like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, as no both my cats have become over excited by coconut fat and as I am basted in it twice daily, follow me everywhere meowing like possessed ones.
I believe I am on the mend, yesterday things improved, and after a bath involving the above rituals. I then put some loose clothes on top of the onsie and progressed out to a works dinner with my husband. I was in full rebellion. As soon as I realized that I had been positioned between several ladies who were intent on pushing rocket, nuts and raisins around their plates, I went on a full fat unveganized rampage.
After doing some feisty medicinal red wine sampling, to help break up the endless monotonous clinking of mineral water glasses, my main course arrived. This was in the form of a roasted rump of some sort with snobby trimmings, and my recently depleted appetites returned to do it justice. This followed on nicely from the starter of slithering mushrooms that had been mildly problematic, these were slathered in garlic butter, the over slippery nature of their presentation had caused most of them to fire across the table when confronted with my fork jabbing into them. I spent most of the first course on all fours apologising to people under the table about what had landed in their laps. I did of course stick rigidly to gluten free eating all the way through dinner, and felt the need to demonstrate my ability to stick to a diet by ordering the new gluten free chocolate cake on the menu plus ice cream. Yes I am slowly losing weight on my NDT but I may also have to have my jaws wired together in order to help it along the way. Mind you to have an appetite after a few days on soup and fruit only was I must say rather nice. I had more wine to end it all, and awoke this morning, having slept the sleep of a terrible lady who has given into all temptations.
Today was a day of horrendous sneezing brought about probably by having three glasses of wine instead of sticking to only one! I managed to walk into town and nearly blew the sales assistant across the counter of my local garden centre, due to the force ten nature of them.
My husband of course, as usual all evening had said he was not at all hungry and only needed one course but proceeded to snaffle whatever he could off my plate, this is normal, we have been bickering about no puddings and starters for 23 years now. I take no notice whatsoever! In fact I often order them for him anyway knowing he will do this. He often comments how generous the starters are having not realized I have ordered double in order to stop him eating mine.
The fact that I have been out twice in a week, despite being in a vile state means that the NDT along with the LDN and everything else is taking the edge off. Last week-end I was frog marched to a party in town and really enjoyed myself, despite a lack of good clothes due to current state of play with my flare. However I met lots of hilarious people and at one point got pinned into the corner by a startlingly loud woman who had apparently flown in from Paris and was an interior designer by trade. I of course could not help noticing that her trouser suit appeared to be made out of the same material as was covering the sofa I was reclined on. I encouraged her on to it, just so that I could return with drinks and spy her from afar totally blended in with it, and rendered almost invisible. She wanted to come around the next day and view my particular house style but I thought the better of it. Due to the recent and endless smoke filled experiences of our abode, I felt I was tempting fate.
My husband likes to do what he calls multi tasking, he can't, and it ends in disaster. Twice now he has gone into the kitchen and filled a wok with nuts to toast and a saucepan with seeds, in order to make toppings for our porridge, He does not put on the cooker extractor, neither does he stay in the room. Instead he goes off with the walk about phone to make calls, not telling me he has done either for these things, a few minutes all fire alarms going off and a house full of smoke.
The other incidents involve our new stove, leaving the door open so he can see the fire, but then setting off all alarms around the house again with billowing smoke, once I am asleep for an early night - taking a break from being woken constantly by coughing teenagers with temperatures.
I soon forgot about all this today, once the postman delivered a huge parcel addressed to him. He could not wait to open it and announced that everything would be ok because of it. We all gathered around, and out came an outsize disco glitter ball, the sort from night clubs in the 1970's. He says it is to make me dance more. He does not mean a cross lady dance to the tune of the smoke alarms!.
I have no other news as the Itchy and Scratchy show is in full swing punctuated with the odd visit from grandchildren which brings on my extreme banoffee pie making tendencies. I have to make another double sized one in two weeks for the next wild visit. My time in bed has brought on more elaborate ideas, abandoned curtains rails, which have been eclipsed by blinds in our bathrooms now have street bunting pinned to them with nice things hanging down to catch the light, albeit currently yanked by bored elderly cats, who I might add caused mayhem with my HU account. I arrived back from an appointment the other day to find one elderly tabby tiger, sitting bolt upright on my lap top, paws splayed out, and in the process of blacklisting most of my contacts as spam and stopping all notifications from here and from my children's school! No harm done, but now some enforced basket time.