It’s manic here at Boo Towers. I start the days with every intention of blogging and then there the day was, and there I was, and never the twain shall meet. I can’t even read a book at the moment. Mostly, I either fall asleep or stare, boggle eyed at the telly when I do get time to stop. It’s rather like a giant soothing dummy. It requires me to sit still and do nothing, and nothing I watch is taxing, so if I fall asleep in the middle of it, I don’t feel guilty.
I’ve written fifty three letters from Santa this week. There are a few more to write, but I have almost finished. I was going to do a few every day and this did not happen because I got complacent and decided I had everything under control. This was, in fact, a complete lie. The last few days have been, in consequence, rather Santa heavy.
I have almost finished my Christmas shopping. I am at that stage where I drag wearily home and think, ‘Yay!’ and then think ‘Bugger!’ But the ‘Bugger!’ is becoming less frequent. It isn’t that I had quantities to buy, I just had the really tricky people left. You know the people who just make you want to shut your head in the oven but who you can’t not get things for?
There was a particularly big ‘Bugger!’ moment when I realised I had to post some things, which I had entirely deleted from my memory/to do list. These things have now been wrapped and are awaiting dispatch. That is not to say that they will be dispatched on time, but they will, at some stage, be sent, and friends have been alerted that I am crap and they are used to me, so this is good.
My house is full of advent food boxes for my food bank project. These will all go away this week and I can reclaim floor. This is quite a cheering prospect. What’s better is how generous people have been. Some people have already delivered multiple boxes direct to the Food Bank. Some people are still bringing boxes to me. I have an entire room full of groceries already. I’m incredibly amazed at how generous people are.
I am trying to read a wonderful book by Siri Hustvedt, one of my favourite authors, which is all about art and how we see things. It’s fascinating and I am very frustrated that I am still only half way through the first chapter because I keep falling asleep over it. This will be taken on holiday and I vow to finish it, even if I have to drink espresso and prop match sticks in my eyelids.
We took the children to see Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them today. Apart from the appalling family who let their toddler scream through the first half until the rest of the audience lost all patience with them and complained, it was terrific. I’d love to see it again, without the screaming toddler this time. I want a Niffler.
I took Tallulah to do her Christmas shopping yesterday. She and I had a rare afternoon together alone, and made the most of it. It was wonderful, if rather wet. We were ladies who lunched, and then we were ladies who shopped and she managed to do all her present buying on a very restricted budget, which caused us a bit of a headache, but worked out well in the end. If we hadn’t come home looking like drowned rats it would have been the perfect afternoon.
I took Tilly to the dentist this week as she was slightly concerned that her gums were falling off and her teeth might fall out and then her head might roll off her shoulders onto the floor. This did not happen, and the dentist was rather pleased with her in fact, and so was I, because I did not want a headless daughter for Christmas. She is just rather run down and exhausted, as are we all. It is the time of the year and the weather. Wales will cure all.
We took the leeway the dentist appointment gave us and managed to knock a few of her Christmas purchases on the head too, so she’s a bit less stressed, although no less overworked and exhausted.
Oscar is just Oscar. School is full of lovely times and Christmas plays and dinners and celebrations of every kind. Every day I have to send him in with something or other that he needs, and as long as he remembers those things and his glasses, he is happy as a clam, which is good news.
In between all that I am being kept busy by the fact that Vodafone have managed to fuck up my phone bill/account/life again after doing the very same thing a couple of months ago. They are utterly incompetent and totally useless and keep trying to cut me off and I want to murder everyone in their beds every time I think about them. This is not very in the spirit of things I know, but there you go.
I am also experiencing spectacularly hideous PMT this week. I am taking comfort in the fact that this means I should be over the worst of absolutely everything my middle aged, hormonally deranged body can throw at me by the time we go away, but sometimes it is not very comforting. Sometimes when my hips are trying to unscrew themselves and I have to sit on the floor because why not have cramping before your period as well, and I feel hungry all the time but want to throw up, and my boobs feel like someone has trapped them in a drawer and sometimes I have to sit on the floor because fainting stuff and Nifflers make me cry and visual migraines creep through me on a daily basis, it is not very comforting at all.