Slowly, slowly I am setting my world to rights.
I am beginning to piece my life back together after almost a week of rushing about doing all of the other things, the stories of which have filled these pages this week.
The Cambridge trip had to conclude rather more hastily than we had anticipated, because Mark’s current employer emailed him requesting that he present himself at the heliport in Aberdeen at 05:45 on Monday morning. Number One Son-In-Law was doing the same, but fortunately had had rather more notice and had brought all of his offshore things with him in order simply to catch a flight from Heathrow, which seemed conveniently sensible.
All of Mark’s offshore things were packed in a couple of bags in the conservatory at home, thus rendering the Heathrow option an impossibility.
Hence yesterday turned into a massive journey for him, from Cambridge to Aberdeen, including several detours to deposit various family members on his way.
Regular readers might remember that we have done this before, during Oliver’s schooldays.
I was the last family member to be deposited, and unloaded the car whilst he showered and changed and set off for the far north. He arrived in Aberdeen just as I was finishing work at around midnight, and he caught his helicopter this morning.
I had been mildly concerned about the helicopter, because four hours is not very much sleep, and it is the sort of alarm that is very easy to miss, but when I staggered out of bed in the wee small hours there was a message telling me that he had checked in and all was well, so I went back to sleep with newly refreshed peace of mind.
Of course this meant that I was by myself again. I did not mind this at all, because of having had so much social chattering this week that I can hardly string a coherent sentence together any more, but of course there are all sorts of settling-down things that need my attention now.
I got up this morning to a glum collection of uninspiring post-holiday housework. There was nothing in the house to eat, and the fire had been out for a week, so everywhere in the house was bleakly chilly.
I piled firewood on the stove and took the dogs out instead of doing any of it. Cambridge is very flat, so you can walk round and round it for hours on end without doing any exercise at all, and my muscles complained vociferously at being suddenly expected to heave themselves up the steep Cumbrian fellsides.
The dogs were very pleased, though, and hurtled around barking like idiots whilst I gazed contentedly at the lake and the sheep and thought how splendid it is to be at home.
Afterwards I went to Booths, because of the empty fridge. I had also intended to purchase some daffodils to spread around the house when I had finished hoovering, to make everywhere smell fresh and lovely, but ran out of cash before I got anywhere near them. As it turned out this did not matter at all because I didn’t hoover either, so I might try again after I have earned some cash tonight. In my perfect world I will make a fortune and go to Marks and Spencer tomorrow, and whilst I am fantasising, perhaps somebody else will drop round and do the hoovering whilst I am out.
The house has begun to warm up now, and I have made sushi and some potato pancakes for work. I have stripped the sheets off the bed because even though we have only slept between them a couple of times, it is still Clean Sheets Day and I am a creature of habit, and if I don’t do it then I will be mixed up and confused all week.
Fortunately they dried in the garden, because the house is filled with post-holiday laundry.
I am slowly emptying the luggage, without any great enthusiasm. My gown and hood are still packed away in the case, because they live in the attic and it is such a long way away from the conservatory. I have promised myself that I will move it all tomorrow, along with hoovering and dusting and going to Marks and Spencer, but probably I won’t. If I get it all done before Mark gets home I will have surprised myself.
I suppose really I ought to make a list, that usually helps.
I am not exactly sorry to be on my own. It has been a very exciting week and it is a relief to have silence and time for thoughtfulness.
I don’t even have to think about anything urgent.
Nothing of any importance is happening to me at all.
It is lovely.
LATER NOTE: I have made fifteen quid.
Marks and Spencer might have to wait for a few days.
