Well. The house wasn’t what I imagined. From the photos that David showed me on Friday night the place looked huge and airy with a daisy-strewn paddock and a hot tub. In reality it was poky and angular, the paddock about 20 foot by 20 foot and the attic bedroom would struggle to accommodate Junior Dog, let alone anyone else. “It’s certainly…..compact” David muttered as he nearly knocked himself out on a low beam as he came down the stairs. He was looking so despondent that I started to wax lyrical about the view. It was lovely – rolling fields, horses dotted picturesquely around….but it didn’t feel right. After another half an hour trying to convince ourselves that it really didn’t matter (it did) that we were closer to Chichester than Hastings we said farewell to the pretty little village and headed home in a rather dejected mood. We cheered up though after we’d had a paddle on Brighton beach.
And now I’m lethargic, in a grumpy mood and can’t be ars*d to do anything. Is this normal? I hear from Amelia that she is spending the weekend walking somewhere with her friend (I forget who and where, I was so happy to hear that she wouldn’t be descending Chez Moi that I didn’t register the rest of the call). The woman is in her late seventies and thinks nothing of donning sensible sturdy shoes and trudging round England’s green and pleasant land. Lydia, who is very much pregnant, is spending the weekend “doing the garden”. Janey is engaging in lengthy and plentiful bedroom raunch sessions in an attempt to remind Darren why he married her. Their wedding anniversary party is being planned meticulously as I type. And no, I’m not lifting a finger to help. Not more proof of my general “can’t be bothered” mood but borne out of the fact that I would just like to turn up at just one family event without having to organise the bloody thing.
Marjorie reported joyfully that she and Frank, influenced by my recent weekend away, are off to the Isle of Wight this weekend and plan to see “a lot of ceiling”. Saskia has lost a stone in weight since she started her new job – “It’s all that running around after stupid passengers” – and has hooked herself a pilot called Jeremy. “Only a budget airline pilot though” Bea said when she called by lunchtime to tell me that, should I need her on Saturday, she’ll be at Champneys. So not to bother her until Sunday. Even, she said darkly, in the event of an emergency.
The rest of my week is looking a little something like this: today an unprecedented midweek shop - Matt has eaten me out of house and home. Tomorrow I’m going to attempt to start a “Birthday Card and Present” box for Mac’s friends by going shopping for….things. Is it me or are there a lot more kids parties (all more extravagant than the last) knocking around just lately? Mac has invitations to three this month and I plan to start (!) being An Organised Mummy. On Thursday I am planning a Cooking Day and Friday will be spent cleaning the house from top to bottom.
I’m off to see Colin Fry at Catford Broadway on Saturday with Auntie Ivy, nothing strenuous there. Sunday will be spent having some “me” time as David and Matt are taking Mac to a cricket match and you know how they go on. Mac is suddenly “into” cricket having spent last Saturday with his cousin at Dulwich College in the slips. Or something like that anyway.
So, I am trying to be productive……it’s just that I’m not getting anywhere!