My Week

 On Monday I picked Vee up and we went grocery shopping. I had my list and whizzed around Tesco in no time, then raced out to the car and read my book (The Axeman’s Carnival). Vee must have been in nippy form too as I only had a few pages read before she was out piling bottled water into the back of the car. I never buy bottled water. Am I odd? Afterwards we went to the Ecos Centre coffee shop to find it closed. Why do places close on Bank Holidays. I find that odd. So, it was on to Creative Gardens for a light lunch. I took a photograph of mine and sent it to Bert for complete badness. Am I a bad bitch? Answer – yes.

Back home I baked Bert a birthday cake and made a start on a curry, Mangalorean Catholic style. Don’t know about you but it was new to me. And it was hot!!! The reason I was preparing Tuesday’s food on Monday? I had a coffee date.

So up on Tuesday morning, chores, shower, ironing… Ironing? Yes. Ironing. Meeting one’s peers one wants to look one’s best. As I was about to leave the house there was an issue with a mouse. A shrew mouse in the slavering jaws of Woody de Cat. I saved it and deposited a protesting Woody in the house. I was going to be at least 5 minutes late and me well-known for my punctuality.

Off to Portglenone, found the coffee shop, a new one. Despite being slightly late I was first to arrive. Again. I bagged the best table in the shop. (Won’t they be pleased.) Settled down to wait. Five minutes pass. Then another five. I had a little niggle. I knew I was in the right place but was it the right time? I checked our WhatsApp group. It was the right place and the right time but I was early. A whole week early. All I could do was laugh.

Back home to finish the preparations for Bert’s birthday supper. Frosted his cake (chocolate orange cake, Nigella recipe) and complete the curry. It was hot, hot, hot. Decided to make a milder one for the girls, Thai red curry. They do like spicy food but not too spicy.

All went well. The curries were good, and the cake was rich and delicious.

Waiting for the cake

Wednesday was an at-home day. I started cleaning the larder and became overwhelmed. So much stuff came out of it, I wondered how I was going to fit it all back in, although dumping all the out-of-date stuff helped. I abandoned the project and had an early night which I needed as I’d been wakened by the dogs at five am and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep.

Thursday. I finished the larder and was so pleased with the achievement that I kept opening the doors, looking in and feeling delight. The rest of the house a tip but the larder was clean, fresh and well-ordered. Then off to pick up the girls who are very happy to have finished their summer exams. They asked if the could have Netflix and I agreed and half an hour later I found them watching Bridgerton. Oh dear. If I remember rightly the first season was quite risque in parts. M said she was coping but that E was finding it a little cringey.

Friday. This morning, when I woke up I found myself recalling a not unpleasant dream. I tried to bring it back – something about Donald Trump in court, being found guilty of crimes. Then it dawned on me that this had really happened. What a way to start the day.

Despite this, I was irritable this morning. My larder joy had dissipated and I had to deal with other chores. Of course, just as I’d finished mopping the kitchen floor, Bert got up and he and the dogs trampled all over it. I told him about Mr Trump and he said, Who told you? This annoyed me. It’s as if he thinks I am not capable of finding out things for myself and must wait until someone else informs me. Which is how he (mostly) experiences the world. 

Later on we were called upon by two young lads, one anti-woke and the other fearful of Islam. They annoyed the fuck out of me. I wonder where they get their news?

 

Best part of the week? Finding that the spotted flycatchers have taken up residence in their old home above the front door.