Yesterday was spent mostly nattering with my mother and fending of a gigantic migraine. The two were not related. There are significantly worse ways to spend a day when you feel your head is falling off, than in enjoyable conversation with your mother, and then your brother taking you both out to lunch. Thank you Uncle Robber. You are a trouper.
Today I have woken up pain free with a hip and a hip and an extra hooray, as someone like Bertie Wooster would say.
Other good things include:
It’s Friday. We can all turn the alarm clocks off tomorrow.
My husband took me out for breakfast. I had apricot Danish. I love apricot Danish. I am in training for Copenhagen.
I went to T.K. Maxx to their kitchen ware department in order to buy myself a long handled metal spoon. This is good because you regularly need them for baking purposes, and I only have a short handled metal spoon, so I am often up to the cuffs in cake mix. I satisfied the desire for a spoon for the princely sum of £3. I am chuffed.
Not only did I buy a long handled metal spoon I also bought a good quality lemon zester and a hob top kettle with a whistle. I already have a hob top kettle, but it doesn’t have a whistle, which is a constant sadness to me. I have now rectified this matter to my enormous satisfaction.
We have finally bought an upright freezer to replace the one that broke when we moved in, over 18 months ago, and which has sat sullenly in the utility room being not at all utilitarian in any way. I am very excited about this new freezer arriving. I have a fridge freezer which is always jammed to the rafters and now I will have all this room. I shall get my ice cream maker out again. Hoorah!
I put the phone down on someone trying to sell me PPI related guff. I am so sick of PPI related phone calls at the moment. I am getting tons of them. I wonder if I am the only person in the entire British Isles who hasn’t tried to claim back some money, which means that everyone in call centres up and down the land have the sole and single job of calling me? I have run out of polite things to say to people and I cannot be bothered to think up inventively rude things to say so I felt it was incredibly liberating when I just put the phone down mid spiel. I did a small victory dance.
The spiced apple cake that I made a couple of days ago, with apples from our own tree, is my favourite and my best, and I have had a massive wedge of it for lunch. It has apples in. It counts as one of my five a day. If I could be bothered to give a flying arse about any of that stuff.
I am making Nigel Slater’s french onion soup for tea tonight. It requires long, slow cooking, does onion soup. Normally I do not have either the time or the patience, and as only I really like it, I rarely make it. Today I had an utter and total brainwave and decided it would be the perfect, possibly only, acceptable soup to cook in my slow cooker. I am very excited to see how it is going to turn out. If it goes wrong I shall not blame Nigel as a) he did not mention slow cookers at all, b) I have added more wine than he suggests, c) I have also added a knob of butter and a slug of garlic oil, d) I have added tarragon, and e) I have added white peppercorns. So basically, all that is left of Nigel’s recipe are the onions and the stock and a lot less wine. I have high hopes.
Jason would like it noting that he has the new iPhone. He did not queue for it, camping out in a shopping centre for twelve hours. He took the sensible option and had it delivered by Parcelforce. He is currently deep in negotiations with it. I have absolutely no interest at all in the new iPhone, but I am pleased he is happy with it, and he might give me his old one if I am nice about it. Win.
Most things, as you can see, are tickety splendid at the moment. There are a few dark clouds, just so you know I’m not enjoying myself too much.
The cat caught a mouse this morning, and dragged it damply through the house, protesting wildly – both mouse and cat. She dumped it at Jason’s feet in homage to his greatness. The mouse limped off. Bedlam ensued. The mouse was finally caught and shoved through the hedge into next door’s garden to take its chances.
The cat is now unbearably smug. She has found an abandoned beech nut the squirrels didn’t rate, and is pinging it up and down the decking ferociously, showing us that she is a super huntress and not to be messed with. Rrraaaah! I expect it will end in tears when she gets too full of herself and tries to eat one of the children when they get home from school.
Tallulah has lost her lunch box, and her water bottle at school somewhere. She assures me it is bound to turn up today. I am not so sanguine. She has been at school approximately three weeks. She has no recollection of what she did with it after lunch. I have sent her to school with a carrier bag of sandwiches and Jason’s water bottle, with the strict instruction to come back with two water bottles and one packed lunch box if at all possible. Ha.
Tallulah’s computer is broken. It is probably not her fault to be fair. It was not the newest model, but it is unsurprising to nobody that it is hers that is broken. She has already gone through 4 stereos, countless pairs of headphones and broken her iPod three times. Now it works but the screen is smashed. She is not cheap to keep.
In keeping with the theme of destruction. Oscar has decimated his first pair of school boots. They are pretty much unrepairable. We have bought the second pair of boots this week. They must last him until he is 21.
Oscar has a girlfriend. He is very proud of this fact. I am unsure. I suspect there will be heartbreak by the middle of next week. He is not the sort of boy to take heart break well. I predict an intense bout of pining on the horizon. Gawdelpus.
We have had to have the tree surgeon to look at a poorly cherry tree in our garden. It was a lovely tree, and then suddenly it wasn’t a lovely tree. We wondered what the hell had happened to it. We felt rather guilty, even though we hadn’t done anything. Except we wondered about whether not doing anything to cherry trees is what causes them to be poorly. The tree surgeon was unsurprised at the state of the tree. Apparently there is something wiping out cherry trees left, right and centre. Our tree is as dead as a doornail. We are very sad. He is coming to chop it down in the next few weeks. Boo.
Still, first world problems all. Today gets a tick, and a smiley face.