I had a very quiet morning.
Mark worked late, crawling wearily into bed at five: at which point I stirred enough to become sleepily aware that rumbles and crashes and chuckles were still emanating from Oliver’s bedroom.
I went to investigate, and discovered to my surprise that Oliver and Harry were still fully dressed, and happily installed in front of the Playstation, massacring zombies with unabated enthusiasm.
I suggested that sleep might be a plan, to their absolute astonishment, because they had failed to notice that it was getting light outside. They collapsed into their beds, where they stayed until lunchtime, only emerging even then to eat more pancakes and charge about alternating between the trampoline and the zombie massacre.
I was up reasonably early, which was as well, because somebody had to be around to decline the invitations of small boys turning up at the door at regular intervals, wanting to know if the resident small boys were up yet, and to answer the phone to Number One Daughter, who was planning to visit and running predictably late, and used my peaceful time most productively manufacturing mayonnaise and making packed lunches, which were Chinese chicken and Lancashire cheese today, with plenty of mayonnaise, tomatoes and rocket: which turned out to be an interesting and reasonably satisfactory combination, although I accept that it might have been surprising if you weren’t expecting it.
I took the dog for his morning emptying round the Library Gardens, which was as splendid as always. The library was once a fairly grand old house, donated to the people of Windermere for the purpose of storing our community editions of Danielle Steele and Agatha Christie, and the chap who had built it was an ardent horticulturalist. The trees he planted are now huge and majestic, long after he is gone, and many of them are exotic foreign species planted with a delightful eye to taste and colour. There are some bushes which blossom all year round, and trees of every imaginable hue, and it is a joy which I take for granted all too often. It is the most amazingly noble thing to have done, to have created a beauty which you will never see in its maturity, and then given it to everybody to enjoy. How marvellous people can be sometimes.
My menfolk all emerged from their beds eventually. Oliver has been most put out to discover that the Conservatives have won the election, as he has heard that they want children to work harder at school and do more spelling tests, which he believes is a diabolical infringement of his civil liberties. I am sympathetic but not particularly concerned, because of course it won’t affect him in the least, although I have got no intention of telling him that, and have merely advised him that he needs to practise his spelling harder in order to get ahead of the game before anybody at his school decides to implement the policy.
Number One Daughter and family appeared then, having been to Preston to do some fitness activities, and proceeded to eat everything they could find that had not actually gone off. It is ages since we have seen Ritalin Boy, and he is now enormous, in the way of children which absolutely should not be surprising, and always is, a bit, and I have discovered that I am now grandparent to somebody who would probably more or less meet the admissions criteria for the human race and is no longer a tiresome compilation of leaks and squeaks.
After they had gone the resident boys buzzed off to the park, and I buzzed off to work, and Mark cleaned his taxi out ready for the Saturday night series of adventures.
I sat on the taxi rank designing dresses, because I have got fed up of being a peculiar not-standard size and so have ordered some fabric and I am going to make my own.
This should puzzle any of the other mothers at school, all of whom are very adept at identifying retailer and season when it comes to clothes, and also the fabric was an end of line discount, so it will be an economy really. Also I am fed up of wearing clothes designed by other people and want to invent ones that I like myself.
I seem to recall that I managed all right in sewing classes at school, so it can’t be all that difficult. I have distinct recollections of having made a needle case and a cover for my Bible and an apron whilst at primary school. I am very excited indeed about the idea, and hugely looking forward to the arrival of the fabric, which looked very nice on the Internet, but was unfortunately titled Mud Colour, which may have been why it had to be discounted.
It should be here next week some time. I wished that I had thought of it in time for my interview on Tuesday, although on reflection given my lack of experience it might be just as well.
I will keep you posted.
