Thursday 28th February – The Day of Odds and Ends

Like Andrew Motion yesterday I am girding my loins in a run up to a) cooking the dinner, b) making biscuits for visitors, c) finishing the cleaning, d) finishing this blog and e) getting some more of my essay written.  I decided given all that, that I probably wouldn’t add f) write book of poems and g) give poetry recital after winning top poetry awards to my list.  At least not for today anyway.  I have looked at myself studiously in the mirror and I haven’t yet turned voley, so that’s a good thing.  If anything I look slightly hamsterish, due to the large amounts of cakes and pies ingested this week.  It’s an interesting look, as the bags under my eyes are now meeting the pouches in my cheeks to create a weird and slightly unappealing look.

I have spent most of the day in a quandary, rotating between the different options, doing bits of all and finishing none.  I have defrosted sausages, scrubbed toilets, made random notes and thought in a strokey beardy type way about what the hell I’m going to write about in my blog.  In between I have been confused, overwhelmed and somewhat buggered.  This is standard operating procedure, so it doesn’t phase me too much any more, and so far today I haven’t done anything too eccentric like the whole pants sideways thing, although I might be wearing one of Tilly’s t-shirts by mistake…

I am coming to the rapid conclusion that I really need to commit to something fast.  It’s four o’clock and nothing is finished.  The children are home and getting tetchy and I am at the most tired point of my day.  If I don’t pull it all together in the next hour I will end up writing an essay about sausages, cleaning the children and making everyone eat pages of the Cambridge Edition of Taming of the Shrew, lightly slathered in mustard.

Other things that I have done today are, put together a large amount of stuff for the story sack lady at school and take it to her.  I felt very heroic as she announced that she would like to kiss me, which was very nice.  I advised against it as the cold that was in my nose last week has now moved on to my chest, despite my best efforts to ignore it, and I sound like Bonnie Tyler after having had a drink of sand.  I’d also just come to school from cleaning the kitchen so wasn’t exactly at my best.  I don’t think I’ve managed to get around to brushing my hair today either, so all was definitely not well.  I’ve decided with the wild hair situation to leave it alone and hope it calms down on its own.  Some people call it denial, but it works for me, and Amy Winehouse.  Although I have resisted the urge to throw bleach on mine and tie it in the remains of a dead leopard.  I think that was probably for the best all things considered.  Knowing my luck my hair would go green, snap off and smell of burning tyres.  Then I’d have to become a Britney impersonator, and that definitely would be a bad thing.

On a less sartorial note, I have also bought some cool new vegetable peelers, one for my dad and one for my father in law, Terry.  I don’t know if I mentioned them before in a previous blog, if I didn’t it would be very unlike me.  Anyhow, they are very good because unlike looking like a knife, i.e. a handle with a blade, they are like a moulded square of plastic which fits into the palm of your hand and has a ring type attachment on the back to anchor it.  You slide the ring thing over your middle finger and nestle the plastic in your palm.  On the other side is the cutting blade.  It’s great for kids, left handers and anyone who has trouble with manual dexterity.  I originally got one for Tilly who is both a lefty and has trouble with wielding blades.  She is now a whiz at potatoes.  My Dad, who is also a lefty was massively impressed and wants one so that his forays into the world of fish pie can be even more spectacular, and I thought I’d get one for Terry because he has MS, and his fingers aren’t always that worky, but he does all the cooking.

So my day has not been entirely wasted, although I did find myself standing in various room staring with the blank eyed expression of someone who has clearly started to do something very crucial indeed and then instead of doing it has just melted down neatly on the spot.  I managed to waste quite a lot of time like that as I can seemingly go into trance like mode for up to twenty minutes at a time before I snap out of it and think: ‘What the bloody hell am I doing here?’

It is now ten past six.  Miracle of miracles, things have gotten done.  The ground floor of the house is clean, as are two bathrooms (two out of three aint bad).  I cooked and fed the children sausage and mash (including Lee, who has come for a sleepover).  I cooked and fed Jason and I spicy tomato and bacon soup, home made I might add.  I have cooked triple chocolate cookies and hokey pokey for tonight’s guests.  The girls are showered and ready for bed.  Oscar is in the bath reading Maisy goes to the beach to Jason and I am sitting here covered in soup splatters (I am what can be categorised as an enthusiastic cook), and waiting for Lee to finish in the shower (he’s bought his washing as well), so that I can go and desplatter myself before everyone else arrives.

Not bad for two hours work.  I was helped by the fact that Jason is on early shifts at the minute and managed to be home for ten past four.  This meant he could fend off the worst advances of the children and deal with the laundry, which was about to form itself into cogent ranks and take over the house.  It was very like the charge of the light brigade and harfleag, harfleag rode the five hundred.  Luckily I was behind the lines in the soup kitchen.  I know my place.

Now all I have to do is get clean, eat biscuits, entertain children till bedtime, finish this blog with a rousing finale and write an essay.  Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy.  Or not.

Talking of easy peasy.  My dad made his fish pie to great critical acclaim.  My mother then returned from the wilderness to find that there was no milk or bread anywhere to be seen in the entire house.  She was not best pleased.  You see, that’s the danger of putting all your fish in one pie as it were.  He peaked too early and paid the price.  It clearly goes to show that man cannot live on fish pie alone.  He has tried to make amends by mopping the kitchen floor, but whether that will be enough to give him a reprieve is still hanging in the balance at this stage of the game.

It’s a very bitty blog today.  It’s just the kind of day I’m having.  While I was out and about this morning I thought of two more books I would put on my must read list.  They are:

1. Beloved by Toni Morrison
2. Morvern Callar by Alan Warner

So I thought I would stick it in here with today’s odds and ends entry.  Right, I have to go and stick Oscar in bed now and go and read the children their stories.  I think Lee has washed himself down the plug hole.  He is being suspiciously quiet up there.  Maybe he has fallen asleep in the shower, like the dormouse in the teapot.  I wouldn’t put it past him.  That boy can sleep anywhere.  Lucky swine.