Copy

Things: A Stream of Consciousness

Great Aunt Lizzie's house from Teacup Travels, Edinburgh

Why, yes, I have become that person who poses outside Great Lizzie's House every time she visits Edinburgh. Three days later, when the opening credits of Teacup Travels rolled and I remembered to show the photo to Matilda, I was eyed with such incredulous awe. Totally worth being weird in the rain.

* * *

Anyway, Matilda is at our neighbour's house for three hours. I spent the first half of that sorting out my wardrobe. Properly sorting out my wardrobe. Not just flicking through the hangers but heaping everything on the bed, stuffing about half of it into charity shops bags, a small selection into the bin and folding and hanging the rest back into carefully thought out places.

It felt good.

And boring.

But mostly good.

The collection of things I can't stand to part with even though my no-longer-new maternal bosom won't fit into them has (probably) reached its final stage - it's small but much loved. And my boobs shrank roughly a cup size this week (won't google that; not ready to hear that I'm peri-menopausal and/or seriously ill, thank you very much) so I'm feeling optimistic about actually being able to wear them again some day. That, or raising a daughter who's very into vintage frocks.

* * *

Oh, yes, so there are one and a half hours left during which I could clean the toilet. Luckily, I've got a supermarket delivery arriving in the next hour and it would be such a pain to be in the middle of housework when that happens so - drat it - I'll just have to muck around on the internet for a bit then settle down with my book.

Hello! It's been a while, eh?

* * *

Fourth First up, thanks to everyone who's been asking about Steve's job. The good news is: he still has one! The title and description have changed a little bit but it still exists.

I don't think the world outside Aberdeen realises what a tough time the city's been having, scraping through the oil and gas crisis. Not that it wasn't predicted and not that the rich-poor divide in Aberdeen hadn't reached unforgivable levels and not that nothing could have been done to ease the blow and not that people around here weren't naively smug when the housing crisis didn't touch us.

But still: it's been tough and I don't think we know a single household which hasn't been affected by it. Even those people who don't/didn't work in the oil have been through redundancy or workplace closures, because the money which supported the rest of the city has suddenly disappeared.

Anyway, that's my long way of saying that we're very, very, very lucky to be one of the households which still has an income.

In other good financial news: Steve's student loan will be paid off in April which means we can stop paying for his bus pass out of our savings.

* * *

Speaking of our savings: we're still waiting to hear from the pet insurance.

* * *

And the savings took another knock when our corroded kitchen downpipe started spewing washing machine water all over the downstairs neighbours' windows. Sigh.

* * *

Yikes, this has gone mopey very quickly. TURN IT AROUND, SARAH, TURN IT AROUND.

* * *

Okay, so we've been doing a lot of cooking and baking with Matilda recently. She and Steve have a monthly cookery session scheduled in the calendar; she and I bake with a friend of ours once a month, too; and there has been a lot of allowing her to help out in the kitchen at random other times, too.

For a while, all she was really doing was stirring a few ingredients together then wandering off - we don't think she understood that she was taking part in a process, that what she was doing in any way related to the food which appeared a little while later.

But now she gets it. The squealing and dancing and delight when she saw her first loaf of bread come out of the oven was quite something - she kept touching it, like she couldn't quite believe it was real. Amazing.

* * *

She's also going through an arty stage. Arts and crafts were something I was really looking forward to doing with my child, so I'm loving losing whole days to drawing and painting and stickering and squidging play dough. I'm less keen on the ripping up of paper but accept that it's all part of her exploring the world around her...

* * *

Hand in hand with this is a loss of interest in afternoon TV. Which is great because I no longer have to choose between being the mean mummy who refuses to switch on CBeebies and the guilt-ridden mummy who's checking Instagram while her kid stands glued to the same episode of Teletubbies she watched four hours ago.

I will absolutely defend kids watching some TV (for a start: Matilda only eats carrots because they're Bing's favourite) but we had about a month there when it was a bit too high on her priorities list.

* * *

And finally: good grief, I'm getting a lot of PR emails about Galentine's Day at the moment.

I remember going to a friend's hen do, a few years ago, and thinking that I didn't have enough female friends to ever have one of my own (thoughts on marriage and hen dos and so on aside); recently, it hit me that I have enough women in my life that I would struggle to fit them all in one pub. Ninety-nine percent of the time, that makes me feel happy and secure; today, my period's due so obviously I'm convinced they all actually hate me and are only replying to texts out of a crippling sense of politeness.

Anyway, my point is: even when I'm feeling positive about my friendships, I can't think of many people who would embrace getting together on a Monday night because of a joke in a TV show.

Although, for the record: I would.

I wouldn't wear pink because it's Wednesday, though.

How about everyone else?

* * *

And more generally: what's the news with you?

Post a Comment

Please play nice.