January. Yes. I am all over it. Well, sort of.
Last week galloped by at light speed. The children went back to school in dribs and drabs, some more successfully than others. Exams loom for Tilly, A Level mocks no less. This is terrifying for all of us, even though she’s the only one sitting them. She also has her driving test in about three weeks, so you know, full on crisis mode pending in the late teenage life. Oscar is finding it hard to get up in the morning and is full of raging ennui. He, like me, thinks that this time of year is fit only for painting your name on your back and hiding in straw. Tallulah is the most successful at getting up, being focussed and going to school with all the right gear. We are all envious and somewhat resentful. I think back to when I predicted that one day she will be world dictator. This could be the start.
Jason recovered from the horrible, aching flu bug that was going around and which forced him to stay at home snotting up his death throes instead of accompanying us on our debauched New Year’s Eve shenanigans. I am delighted he rallied, given the fact that I was Will’s eighteenth choice of best man, and if Jason hadn’t got better it would have been me or a balding teddy bear doing all the best man duties on Thursday. I feel the bear might have been the better choice had the crunch come.
The wedding went well. Will and Pixie are now Mr and Mrs Will and Pixie. If you donated to the Just Giving page, I thank you again for allowing it to happen. It was a bit touch and go. Not just due to Jason’s flu, but the fact that Will’s chemotherapy had to be brought forward and he was not entirely fighting fit himself. However, with a lot of drugs and the help of a stick and wheelchair, we made it through and he was still going strong when the children and I flagged and had to go home. The second bout of chemo happens in the coming week. All thoughts, fingers crossed, prayers etc, greatly appreciated.
The Rover at the RSC was amazing. We absolutely loved it. It was funny, bawdy and ridiculous. The cast kept making each other laugh, and I absolutely love that best of all. It was worth the long drive there and back and if you live nearby you should definitely go and see it as long as you like Elizabethan smut. It’s basically Carry on Tudors and with just as many fart jokes.
I devoted some of Friday and a lot of Saturday to sinusitis and the arrival of an early period, which meant a lot of plangent moaning and steaming my face over a bowl of Vicks vaporub. It does no good for the period, but helps the sinusitis a lot. I don’t steam vaginas. I leave that to Gwyneth Paltrow. Yes. This is the exotic life I lead. Painkillers, raiding the dregs of the children’s selection boxes and books helped get me through. I finished reading Life After Life by Kate Atkinson, which I loved so much it even managed to dull the pain for a bit. I’ve also cracked through March Violets by Philip Kerr and Spook Street by Mick Herron, which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Today I am attempting to get my house in order, literally and metaphorically. I have scribbled all over the new diary. I have sent lots of emails. I have made lists. I have done admin. I have already managed to double book myself at least once this week. See, I am not that efficient, and it is good to see that I remain steadfast in the face of organisational success. I have scrubbed the downstairs of my house, due to an influx of visitors over the coming week, and the fact that the crunchy floors and sticky door handles were really beginning to depress me. I was going to make cake, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. I consoled myself with too much sausage and mash for tea and now I cannot muster up enthusiasm for baking.