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, Library Person, Raconteur, Poly, Queer and Bon Vivant. You were expecting something simple?
This entry was posted in holiday, household, idle musings and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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