And I’ve only just noticed its existence. That saves a lot of clicking about in the admin pages.
Waved my parents off about three hours ago. I have parental fatigue, and rather want to crawl away and sleep. We only had one big argument across the entire festive season, and that was about getting lost, the satnav, and Mum’s insistence on holding onto the damn thing, then inadvertently prodding the screen and, god knows how, she got it onto showing the last turning in the journey. So, we got lost, in the dark, on a twisty road, and she was furious with me… it got a bit better when I actually took the satnav from her and stuck it where the good Lord intended it to live, on the windscreen. All journeys made thereafter she wasn’t allowed to hold it. Peace reigned. Dad was unhelpful about the entire episode,which essentially created the argument in the first place.
Since then, we’ve bought a wedding dress, and given the rose bushes in the garden a Really Severe Pruning, after one of them fell off the fence and took the trellis with it. I was hoping my neighbours might deal with this over Christmas (it happened on Monday night), but they didn’t. Dad brought in the loppers and the rose bush is about 1/3 of its original size, with the rest of it bagged up for the council. I hope it revives. Mum says it will, and is generally correct on these matters. She appears to have forgotten entirely about the deaded Japanese Maple. Phew. The trellis disintegrated in a very satisfactory manner when I jumped on it. There is no hope of revival for that, but we’ve sort of lost some of the privacy we had. Not that we had enough privacy for any sort of sunbathing anyhow.
Meanwhile, N is on his way here, and Spurs beat Stoke 3-0, so he should be in a fairly good mood, unless Spurs played uninspired football, in which case he’ll still be grumpy (the goal difference is still negative… but a heck of a lot better than it was a week or so ago). The match report is reasonable, so I’m going for cheerful N! Rah!
Given that we got home from Midnight (how many stars were in the sky? It was awesome!) and Mum announced she was so stressed she needed a brandy, I think the next few days are going to be an endurance test rather than peaceful.
And so it goes.
Saturday, I was all but ready to wave the flag of ‘not coping’. Myriad small problems of my own, a lack of decent sleep, and, to be honest, a fairly poor diet for the previous week rendered me entirely incapable of seeing a tease, and entirely capable of bursting into tears in the middle of Hampstead Heath and picking a fight with poor N for all of 3 minutes.
Not like me at all.
And I still felt like it for much of the rest of the day. Emotional, belligerent, tired, fed up and really just Not In The Mood for anyone else, let alone their desires (and let’s not even get onto other people’s problems. Hadn’t the wherewithal for those at all).
A decent night’s sleep, and an awful lot of food on Saturday night have mostly done the trick. A day with just N yesterday also helped. Hell. Staying in bed until noon helped! And an iron tablet. Mustn’t forget that.
The rest will be fine. Christmas will be bittersweet – they’re letting N’s Dad out of the hospice for at least a few days, but it will be his last Christmas. N is being confused by How To Wrap for someone with limited grip (there will be a visit to youtube for instructions on tying parcels with just ribbon). He’s also yet to finish the Christmas shopping. We were doing very well, then suddenly his sister asked us what we wanted for Christmas, which is lovely, but we’d rather assumed that we weren’t doing adult presents again this year, and so hadn’t bought her anything. Sigh.
I’m not exactly thrilled about going to my parents for six days either, but I’ll manage. And the bed is comfy and cosy, and there’s as much gin as I fancy, and I can go for lots of muddy runs, so it could be Much Much worse. And there’ll be dress shopping….
I shall.find the dress I want at the price I want and then I shall run the Rome marathon.
All in all, it’s going to be awesome.
I had a lovely day with my bridesmaid, trying on pretty dresses in two different shops. Safe in the knowledge that Dad said on Wednesday he would buy me a dress if I wanted a new one and didn’t want to wear the re-made one bought 10 years ago, when I was engaged to the wrong man.
But, the thing is, the two dresses I liked the most cost the better part of £2000. Dress #3 and #4 were £1000. Mum keeps sending me dresses seen online, for £500 but this is not something I can buy unseen at all, and I can’t see that I’d manage a trip to those suppliers anytime soon. Plus they’re all actually quite vile (or, rather, the sleeves is all wrong for my arms. Or I have weird arms. Seems more likely).
So I’ve just sobbed my eyes out because there’s no way I could ask dad to pay for something that would pay for at least three years of heating bill, and I know I’m going to end up wearing that dress refitted and remade. I can’t decide if I’m being ungrateful or what. I have a dress. It’s a perfectly ok dress. I just don’t feel like I have a choice, because I’ve been brought up not to spend money unnecessarily, and, frankly, I’ve been brought up far too well in that regard.
this really is stupid. And dwelling on it won’t help. I wanted it out of my system, and it pretty much is. I’ll u the rest of my annoyance with myself and the situation to whoer it up at tomorrow’s half marathon.
It was silly. It was fun. It was serious: any play that gets aerated about female circumcision in the West End is serious. It was full of tappity toe songs, joie de vivre, and some horrid people. And the spooky Mormon hell dream song was definitely a reworking of South Park the Movie (which isn’t really suprising). Not one to go and see on a first date, or with your Mum. Or with anyone who cannot cope with Language and isn’t reasonably broad-minded about religion. But definitely one to see with Dad, although I think I laughed more. He wasn’t feeling very well (I do hope the steroids actually work, and bring him back to the usual state of joie de vivre and energy).
And then we headed over to Dehesa. Best Gluten-Free dining experience ever. They marked up the menu for me, and I didn’t have to specify that I wanted a gluten free version thereafter – whatever I chose, they just served the gluten free version (if something needed taking away from the normal version to make it gluten free). And the food was all gorgeous, and we’re definitely going back.
Although I shall not drink 3 glasses of wine. 2 glasses is enough. The third had me wheeling down the street and wanting to go to bed the moment I got home.
So I did.
- write a lovely blog about seeing Book of Mormon and the fabulous restaurant we went to yesterday
Print lots of forms for Brownies ice skating
- Not fall over at skating
pay in the coins that I counted at the weekend
Send an email about the Big Brownie Birthday event
- Worry less about Dad (current diagnosis: polymyalgia rheumatica. Let’s hope the steroids kick in. He’s confused by the difference between those and statins. He has four pills to take in different quantities at different times)
- Pack up the jam and books for wwill
Oh yeah. Remember I said that it would be DRAMA!!!! who popped up on Facebook next? Guess who made a friend request about a week ago… How predictable.