Tea party...

-
Normal life has returned with the departure of daughter number two last night.  

My poorly little chick has had a rotten second week of recuperation having had her tonsils removed, and there have been a couple of darker times when I considered sticking them back in.  I'd probably have to have used an alternative as her tonsils are long gone, and having considered a couple of Pizza Express dough balls, two satsumas or a pair of rolled up socks, we eventually agreed that she'd just have to ride out the storm.

She's been a very good patient, and I've been a very good nurse apparently (flowers delivered yesterday as proof) but as I said to her as she left, 'There's no need to buy me flowers sweetie.  As a mum, it's in my job description to be Mumma Nurse when required'.

So she's gone.  In a whirl of washed and folded clean clothes, an emergency food parcel and seven packs of painkillers for those 'just in case' moments.  The house has reverted back to its tranquil self, and I can revel in the fact that I won't be folding my sofa throws every morning when I come down to the lounge.

But this peace and quiet won't last long...

Later today, I have several of my neighbours (the female variety) coming round for afternoon tea.  If ever the Trades Description folk get whiff of what these gatherings are called, they would sue the socks off me.  Yes, there are sandwiches, cake and scones, but tea?  Not a chance.  It's fizzy stuff and Pimms all the way, and if previous experience tells me anything, the tougher ladies (always the two Mrs B's and Mrs H) will still be here as the sun goes down, while their children remain unfed and their dogs unwalked.  

I am just hoping that I can show enough restraint and not have to sleep it off tomorrow morning,  missing firstly the royal wedding, and then the FA CUP final.  I'm really excited about both, and it's really going to be a Saturday of two halves tomorrow.

Flags in the morning.  Scarf in the afternoon.

I shall be waving both over zealously in gay abandon...

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

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

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