Coming home...

-
Normality has returned to my immediate vicinity.  After some persuasion ('Come home with me, or I'll never speak to you again!') daughter number two finally caved on the common sense front and agreed to continue her convalescence with me at home.  This was good for several reasons.  

Firstly, it meant that I didn't have to sleep on that blessed camp bed for another night.  Now I have been camping many times, and I've even used this camp bed in various tents across the UK.  However, being camped in someone else's lounge, sandwiched between the TV cabinet, a stack of tacky magazines and a two seater sofa is not ideal, especially when the only feasible position meant that your face was level with a whole load of chocolate left over from Easter.  I reckon it was the smell of Lindt wafting across my face which kept me awake, so I was very glad to be back into my own bed last night.

And then there's the cooking.  I made the malingerer and her flat mate a lovely shepherd's pie on Wednesday if you remember.  Now not only did I have to go and buy the ingredients (completely expected) but I also had to buy the dish to put it in.  So all in all, a very expensive shepherd's pie.  

And of course, there's the space.  Daughter number two lives in a flat which could just about house two size 7 knee high boots from Clark's.  Her bathroom is so small that she can s**t, shave and shower without stepping off the mat, so adding my meagre toiletries to the forty seven bottles of shampoo, conditioner, fake tan and moisturizer (I counted) didn't help with my OCD which has been in free fall since Tuesday.

My house, although not a palace, definitely has more room, so daughter number two and I have stopped sidestepping past each other in every doorway. Her bedroom here is neat and minimal, as befitting a reinvented 'guest room' with a basket of toiletries in the bathroom for those 'don't forget your toothbrush' moments.  It's a place of tranquility and peace (unless you include the dive bombing furballs at 3.00am) and I'm sure that it will help her recover more quickly.

Speaking of which, the other good thing about having her here, is that I can hardly hear her shouting from upstairs.

Every cloud, and all that....

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's raining men...

-
We overslept this morning.  I'm not entirely surprised having walked the equivalent of a half marathon over the past two days, and we just about made breakfast.   We did all the usual Christmas stuff today.  Carnaby Street, Regent Street, Borough Market, mulled wine (again), chocolate covered bananas and caramelised nuts.  There was also the issue of the very inclement weather.  Wandering around the whole A to Z of London, the husband decided that a purchase of a hat and scarf was necessary.  Being a fairly sensible woman, I had brought a hat, scarf and gloves with me, but the husband, being of tougher stuff (he hails from the north) had proclaimed that he was no southern softy and would deal with whatever the weather had to throw at him in a manly fashion. Fast forward to late morning, the rain was chucking it down, and the manly fashion had morphed into wimpy whinging about a chaffed chin due to an evil coat zip and a wet head.  And so began the hut hunt. We tried sports shops (t
Read more

Diary...

-
Eight years ago, I came up with the idea of writing a diary for my children which I would put into the public domain.  And so Words from a Bird began.  Two thousand posts and almost a million words later, I am still going.  But like all of us, lives change.  Eight years ago, my life was all about the four children, schools, universities, boyfriends, girlfriends, work, my husband, family and the dogs. Much of that is still relevant today, thank goodness, but we now add in two weddings (one more pending), grandchildren (one, and again, one pending), retirement and looking after parents. So to all my completely gorgeous readers, to the ones who have been with me right from the start and to the new ones who have discovered me just this week, thank you for coming along for the ride with me.  I hope I carry on making you giggle for many years to come!   If you don't want to miss anything, just follow the Words from a Bird page. And when I am a very old lady, I hope that my children will
Read more

Ain't no mountain high enough...

-
Image
I thought you might be interested in the other stuff Mr Bird and I got up to while we were away in the Wobble Box this weekend.  The pinnacle of the weekend was the mountain climb (see what I did there?) but before this, we had anticipated a simple, peaceful and quiet few days together with the dogs.  What we hadn't expected was to be shouted at as we strolled to the pub on the first night, 'What on earth are you two doing here?' Standing outside a posh (and long) motor home, were two very good friends of ours.  Happily retired, they trolley around the world in their home on wheels, and just happened to land in Pandy a whole thirty minutes before we did on Thursday.  The funny thing is, that every time we see each other, the subject of caravans and motor homes is always raised, with promises on both sides made that we will arrange something together for a weekend.  To date, we've never managed to do this, but it finally happened by accident.  We all decided that th
Read more