Tuesday, 19 July 2016


I have taken to living in the downstairs loo.  It's the coolest room in the house (north-facing, dark, no heating) and with the temperature being as high as it is just now, it is my only refuge.  The only other place I am considering is the fridge, but that's full of food as the shopping was done yesterday.  Having said that, by Wednesday there'll be plenty of room on the top shelf as the plague of locusts I share my house with would have done their worst.

It's not such a great idea though, as I would also have to depend on someone letting me out again.  As you know, my lot can't even put their washing in the linen basket, so remembering to let me out of the fridge looks unlikely.  I have suggested sleeping in the garden, but the husband wasn't too keen, suggesting an electric fan instead.  Yes, great idea.  With that targeted on me on top speed, he'll think it's raining...nice.

So on Sunday night, I had to contend with the double whammy of a hot flush and tropical overnight temperatures.  Lying in a large puddle in the middle of the bed, waiting for the tide to go out, I cursed Mother Nature and her warped sense of humour.  Could she not have just waited till October?  At least the hotties would have served a purpose (heating bills reduced, no money spent on more jumpers) and there would have been some gratitude from the husband. 

As it is right now, not only is he contending with the scorching nights, he also has to put up with sleeping next to a sweating hippo, wallowing around in a swamp of her own making and giving off enough heat to power 3,000 kettles.

I was explaining all this to daughter number two this afternoon, and telling her that this was just the tip of the volcano (I'd like to say iceberg, but I think we all know that's not the right choice of word). 
She was appalled that this could go on for twelve years, and looked almost relieved that she was moving out in a couple of weeks.  Son number two has already bagsied the sofa just in case I get impossible to live with as time goes on, and son number one and daughter number one are off to 'somewhere in Asia' this week.  I would be surprised if they came home, their fear of 'Crazy Menopausal Woman is so great.

As time goes on, the poor husband will be the only one left as my menopause reaches its peak.

God help him...
Post a Comment