I have had one of those weeks where you go around in circles trying to sort stuff out - and collect more and more things as you go around - and have to start all over again, but everybody is happy, this being the main objective. The week started with a frenzy of cookery going on with the children making stuff. Having gone to bed very early one evening. I awoke in the morning and slouched downstairs and got stuck to my own kitchen floor. I was immediately transported back to the 1980's and those sort of pubs that had nightclubs attached with lino floor that got sticky, I swiftly moved on from this day dream and realized that I was standing in fluffy slippers in a lake of maple syrup. Never mind, the floor needed bleaching anyway.
This last Tuesday morning, was a day of everybody being late.. with school buses being chased up the road.. and I did spy just in time... my man about to sneak out.. looking rather like a extra art installation by Tracey Emin - a particular work of hers entitled 'unmade bed'. Despite plenty of smart and ready clothes. The sort a man would wear to teach workshops to big wigs.. he had favored a crumpled selection from the ironing pile that lives on top of the piano. A pile with a loose rule attached - if it touches the ceiling, get on with it etc, and if you happen to be a teenager needing funds, pocket money can be earned!
Having unstuck myself from the kitchen floor and abandoned my slippers. I chased him around the house and he did swap his clothes over to smarter ones - only to replace this potential late for work activity with another. My husband models himself on the late Emelda Marcos and has a vast shoe collection, mostly DREADFUL.. and we have floor to ceiling shoe storage built for this purpose downstairs... This is to avoid a pile of shoes in each room, which I get infuriated about, and if I have PMT I lob the lot out of either the back door or the front one, should I trip over or stub anything, which is a frequent happening in this house.
Since building the shoe storage area, the piles of shoes remain exactly where they were.. So I was not surprised to hear him asking for his black work shoes... which turned out to be where they should be, in the wretched racks - but he prefers to look in every room at every possible place. Once he truly was ready... I was touched to see him, just as started to drive away, stop, get out of the car and pick up our elderly shivering tiger tabby cat and bring her inside, hissing gently under one arm. . She had slipped out to use local amenities, and got stuck outside with an arctic blast under her tale - she gets arthritis in the cold and could not get back in through her cat flap. I love him for things like that.
Later in the week, having noticed me on line looking at buying a new iron for all or us to use.. he sneaked off to a German supermarket which will remain nameless and came home with the most frightful thing I have ever encountered in the history of taking my turns at ironing. It got through a whole tank of water for three items and continually set my smoke alarms off. He was most dismayed.. but I did point out that perhaps when he next wanted some academic books he could rely on me to go and buy him The Beano or perhaps a second hand copy of Mandy Magazine as they were just as good. etc. We do save our best bickering for such important subject matters The pretend supermarket iron is now in the garage in case he wants to use it in there to iron the sails of his boat..
I am a naughty bad tempered old bat currently and I can be a tad unreasonable.. I think when I am inflamed with everything going on including a migraine.. I am a little less tolerant. For instance last night, the combination of a full sized drum kit being played, the television on, the children wanting to talk to me and my husband going pluck a pluck a plink plink pluck on a ukelele, was slightly too much. I had a dreadful urge to put the ukelele on the fire.. which is very awful as I love it when he plays me a tune or two. I took that as a hint to go to bed with my hot water bottles and have a very self indulgent huffy sulk with the television and lap top. he then appeared with a tin whistle and played some Irish jigs.
Today is not a good day for me health wise, a predictable and intense autoimmune flare going on, which keeps driving me back to bed. However I awoke, determined that I would get outside and take the children to a local ancient wood. Something large, rare and bright yellow was hanging over my garden and I felt we should view it collectively for some time before thick grey clouds claimed it back again. I of course took my nutri adrenal extra, I have to take an extra one a day at this time on the excellent advise of Dr BDP and my nutri thryoid, also the latest addition which is LDN... I am progressing slowly on this, and have noticed some improvements in my sleep which are most welcome. I have stuck totally to gluten free for months now. I have had my latest increase to 3 mg and I think I can feel the difference. I have a huge flare every month connected to the rhythm of my hormonal pattern, this can be a flare for over two weeks, but currently I am standing at 8 days, which is a sizeable improvement, slow but steady. I have also had my three monthly check in with my GP in Scotland regarding this. and for my five conditions this is ok progress. Also my psoriarisis is improving, nothing has ever improved it before.
When in my current state, I try for an hour on and an hour off regarding lying down and getting things done. Today was no different with this. Having prized some snoring teenagers out of bed we all settled down to brunch and I motored my way through some good coffee and then I went back to bed, to plan an outdoor mission involving the sun.
We recently had a long lost friend turn up who organizes walks and camping trips.. and to our surprise he had pointed us to and area very close to where we live, which we had not explored... He had marched my man off on a bitterly cold day, deep into a forested wilderness for a number of hours. They arrived back after dark, beating their chests and hinting about dinner. A visitor seeing your home patch through a new set of eyes is always useful.
So this morning, once rested after cooking brunch - off we set with cameras which turned out not to have batteries or sim cards in, but ipods which sort of worked and cameras on phones which took crappy pictures but nevertheless took something. I trailed along doing my special slow walk, really enjoying the sun.. the others flew off through the woods... I caught up, just as my husband fell out of the branches of a tree in front of me. He said 'ow and oh dear' and then put his hat back on and went straight up again. My daughter was to be found sitting on a nice mossy tree stump, all done up and ready to visit her boyfriend who I like because he honks a saxaphone nicely. My son was up the same tree as his father lolling on a branch in the style of a sloth. We were not there very long, but will go back soon when it warms up and I am a bit better, probably once of the nicest woods I have ever walked in..and a possible art project for my daughter.
Tomorrow I am going to get my steamer out and attack the sofas and the car... there is a reason behind this, beyond having cats and rather a lot of visitors. My man flew up to London for one night to teach a work shop during the week. He was also going to act as the hotel inspector for my friend Dither's flat, we are fortunate to be allowed to have keys and stay whenever we like whether she is there or not, and she used to be my next door neighbor as well as my best friend. Dithers is due back from her far flung and dangerous adventure in South America. Before she left she went to great lengths to inform us both verbally and by email that she had turned over new leaf and her bedroom and beyond was stunningly organized and probably should feature in either Homes & Gardens or Hello Magazine. We had forgotten to say he would be staying there, and so we decided to call his last work trip, 'The bedroom Inspector'. He phoned on his arrival to explain the scenes of utter dithering turmoil and explosive chaos.. Which made no difference to him whatsoever. My man is one of those people who can't see mess at all! He just immediately gets over the shock and filters it out!
However I shall also be informing my friend Dithers, as to why I need to go mad with a steamer tomorrow whether ill or otherwise. He set off for London, late again, and at the last minute, at the crack of dawn decided that he would deliver to her some freshly laid eggs from our very happy chickens. These he placed loosely, in a shallow lid on the back seat of the car and promptly forgot about them as he left in a violent screech of gravel. The eggs flew all over the car, and much to the children's disgust, have coated most of the interior i in raw egg and shell! He is going out with a bucket of hot detergent and a brush... I will follow on with the steamer. I don't mind jobs like that as they are a bit like magic!
More fuss soon.
Mary F x
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