Often as I’m pottering I mentally start writing a blog post. Sometimes just the theme, at other times phrases, sentences, structure all come flooding into my mind and I am desperate to get to a computer and commit my thoughts to cyber-space. This morning was one of those times. Today didn’t look like being a very good day. It is grey and cold and wet. Sophia has an ear infection and so isn’t her usual sunny little self and I feel miserable worrying that she’s in pain. Husband has a work dinner tonight and so won’t be home until late. We all have slight colds, so everyone feels a bit tired and below par and 83% of my life consists of answering the question “where are the tissues?” or picking up discarded tissues off the floor, or wiping the nose of a baby who is determined she does not want her nose wiped.
Then, having decided that Sophia was well enough to go to her Monkey Music class and that we’d both benefit from a change of scene, the bus still hadn’t turned up after thirty-five minutes of waiting, at which point I gave up because we’d missed class by that time anyway. After we’d been home a while I went out into the hall, and noticed a little red ‘failed delivery’ slip from Royal Mail. I was a bit puzzled, because I hadn’t noticed it when I came in, but I picked it up and discovered that it was for a delivery which had been attempted at 11.30am. Funny thing was, it was only 11.10am at that point. I phoned Royal Mail in a huff, and they promised me they would arrange immediate redelivery – but of course, nothing has yet happened. Grr. Throughout all this I was planning a grumpily witty blog post, groaning about the minor tribulations of life. And, to be honest, that is what a large part of me still wants to write. Especially as when I’ve logged into my WordPress account I’ve discovered they’ve changed the formatting and there’s an intensely iritating little preview box which I can’t get rid of and which blocks the left third of the screen, and will probably mean this post is full of typos!
However, I am going to try and rise above my glum mood. I am hurtling towards thirty-five at the speed of light, and there is a part of me that worries that if my grumpy-old-woman characteristics are left unchecked at this age, my poor children are going to gave an absolute nightmare with me in the decades to come.
Looking on the bright side – and not just the big picture I’m alive and well and so are my husband and kids and I have somewhere warm and safe to live and plenty to eat bright side, but the more detailed bright side as well, there are a lot of positives.
Cold dreary November weather is actually pretty enjoyable because it means we get to wrap up warm in lots of layers, and not have to worry about exposing more than a few inches of flesh beneath hat and above scarf until next March, thus cutting down on body maintenance. And the weather also justifies plenty of hot chocolate, comforting traditional puddings and things on toast for lunch instead of salads. I know that might make the body maintenance come March that bit trickier, but hey, March is a looonng time away. And it never actually gets warm until May anyway come to think of it.
I live in a city with great public transport, meaning I don’t need to drive, and although this morning was a failure, that actually happens relatively rarely, so I can generally get where I’m going easily and fairly cheaply.
Sophia was oblivious to the dreary wait for the bus because she, snuggled in four layers of clothing, a hat with ear-flaps, mittens and a pram fleece, was fast asleep and looking heart-wrenchingly angelic.
Husband is out for dinner tonight, which is disappointing because I enjoy his company, but Anna is also out for tea at a friend’s, and Sophia isn’t eating anyway because she’s unwell, but I have leftovers from yesterday I can heat up for her to throw on the floor, so this is an evening when I don’t need to cook! I will be totally satisfied with a bag of tortilla chips and a tub of salsa, followed by an early night snuggled in bed with my book. Things aren’t so bad after all. But if any WordPressers can tell me how to get rid of this stupid box, and where the tag boxes have gone, and how you now do links to previous posts, I’d be very grateful!
Love this update from the shop floor! Public transport is amazing in London – even with hiccups. I didn’t truly appreciate this until I moved up to Yorkshire for three years when Chiswick Boy was born. Waiting on a main road for a bus that only comes every three hours, that doesn’t have a wide enough door for buggies, that only takes you somewhere only marginally less dismal… well it left me sobbing on more than one occasion! Enjoy your tortilla chips and salsa in bed… what are you reading? And just think – Christmas is on its way :-)
[…] ← Looking on the bright side […]