In which I bake like a maniac, walk the dog and wish the BBC wouldn’t mess with the TV schedules.
Well apparently it’s Friday already. This week has been almost as busy as last week, but with considerably less stress.
Proving that there is no justice in this world, my number two daughter, who has never knowingly eaten any fruit, and who seems to thrive on a diet of chocolate and chips, came out of her dental check-up on Tuesday, with the all clear and comments on the quality of her brushing – what brushing, I wanted to scream, but it seems that she has been blessed with excellent teeth, which must also have acquired a teflon coating in utero.
Number one daughter bearded her maths teacher in her own den – demonstrating a new level of self-confidence, born I suspect out of desperation, but showing that when push comes to shove, she can look after herself – good to know that the skills are there and I suppose it’s an important stage of development – a career in the diplomatic service?
On a more mundane level, the new dog is starting to understand, if not consistently practice, loose lead walking. I think it’s safe to say that his week, I’ve been out for a few walks with him, rather than been dragged wildly along behind him. Much more work to do on that score, but I’m optimistic.
Tonight, number two’s school is having its annual summer fair. You can imagine with what joy I received the news that she had put herself down to run a cake stall. To be fair, my nimble side-stepping of most school events, has meant that I’ve rarely had to do anything like this over the last ten years, so it would be churlish to complain this time.
Of course it did mean that I spent yesterday batch baking fairy cakes (we’re obstinately refusing to call them cup-cakes). Yesterday evening, the daughter decorated them – on the only hot evening of the year, the butter icing was practically sliding off as she applied it, but in the end they did look pretty good and miracle of miracles, I managed to get them into the fridge, so they’ll survive until tonight.
I’ve been doing so much taxi-ing around for the girls this week, that the TV takeover which is Wimbledon fortnight has barely impacted on me. Nevertheless, I do resent the fact that every time I do manage five minutes with my feet up, I have to endure grunting tennis players when I normally have a civilised cup of tea while watching something about antiques.
I’m not a tennis fan.
Last night, the change to the programming trailed well over its allotted time, so that I have now come to totally distrust the TV schedules.
However, there is a plus to this. I have been rediscovering the joys of my iPod. An added benefit is that when I’ve got my earplugs in, the daughters’ and husband’s calls to me – why do they always think I’ll go to them? – can’t be heard, or can be ignored without feeling guilty.
So, not a bad week after all. Fingers crossed it won’t rain this evening – song lyrics involving cakes left out in the rain are running through my brain – showing my age there…
Have a good weekend. I’ll be listening to Pink Floyd, King Crimson and Karl Jenkins.
Mostly Motley 