Home At Last

Finally had a chance to sit down, and get my brain back in gear after a day’s drive back home and the usual rush about the house to unpack and have a bit of a tidy up along the way. It’s things like finding one or two bits of cutlery that I somehow missed before we headed out now hosting a credible attempt at starting their own civilisation that cue a bit of a frenzy of cleaning, washing and hoovering as I start to see more and more bits that I “somehow missed” before we headed out.

Fledgling mould civilisation duly wiped from the planet, overdue paperwork shredding and general tidy complete I’ve now ordered some pizza for the girls and I to devour before I have to grit my teeth and take small home.

The weather here is somewhat closer and hotter than we’ve been experiencing up in Blackpool, which is also a bit of a shock to the system – no wonder the spiders around the estate are looking so plump and well fed – there must have been plenty of insect life escaping the water treatment place behind us. At least none of them tried to set up a trap at the front door for passing humans – something that has happened in recent years. What they did do though was trap and kill a moth and leave it hanging in the doorway to my daughter’s bedroom. With a modicum of anthropomorphism I can just imagine the household spiders saying “look, we missed you, but we’ve caught this for you as we know Lady M doesn’t like them…”
Speaking of things heard – I had a short moment relayed to me by my mother this morning as we munched on our toast. Apparently one of their friends who works as a chaplain in a hospital sent her the following message last night:

Speaking of surreal moments, just had an amazing one. I was sitting quietly with someone, giving them communion in their hospital bed, when I heard a young doctor saying in the next cubicle: “We’ll be letting you out tomorrow Mrs L___ there’s nothing wrong with you now, just old age.”

“Just old age?” came the reply. “I’m 93, of course it’s a problem!”

There’s not much you can say to that, but it did tickle me… Perhaps I need to get out more…

About Tim Maidment

Writer, House Husband, Raconteur and Bon Vivant
This entry was posted in holiday, household, idle musings and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s