It’s been chaos this week, Readers, as routines have changed beyond recognition at my house. Working Hours are completely different from normal for some people, plus of course Lad is on study leave so is only going into school for exams. To be honest, I don’t know if I’m Arthur or Martha, with all the coming and going. So I thought I would take advantage of the situation where possible. The problem with changing one’s routines is that it’s easy to take one’s eye off the ball, and so it has been proved. The kitchen bin wasn’t put outside yesterday morning, so I emptied it all over the kitchen floor and dragged loads through to the lounge, eating whatever was remotely edible and quite a lot of things that aren’t. I had forgotten that Lad was still upstairs, and poor Lad had to clear all the mess up when he finally surfaced. Lad was cross with me, but I didn’t care.
This morning, She remembered to put the kitchen bin out, but completely forgot to shut the bathroom door, so I emptied the bathroom bin all along the landing, and brought some downstairs. Again, I ate a lot of things that don’t really count as food. If they emptied the bins occasionally, Friends, there would be less mess, so it’s entirely their own fault. Lad’s bedroom bin was also full, with crisp packets, tissues and a detention slip from school, so I troughed through that lot as well. The other problem with changing routines is that it disrupts one’s thinking and planning. There is no better proof of this than tonight’s attempt at dinner. The planned dinner was a lovely golden, crispy, bubbling lasagne, to comfort Lad after his first exam and Young Lad after a normal day at school. Reader, had the ingredients been checked and ticked off? No, of course not. It turned out there was no mince-type product in the freezer, which is a key part of a lasagne, so there was some stropping around the kitchen and banging of cupboard doors. In the end, a lasagne was made, using three old veggie burgers that have been in the freezer for months, and a lot of tinned tomatoes. I’m sure your mouth is watering as much as Lad’s was when he came home. It is no surprise that half the lasagne is still in the kitchen – I’ve got my eye on it.
Lad has been rewarded for completing his first exam today, with a Magnum ice cream. I’m thinking the same, Readers; an over-priced, over-marketed frozen dessert on a stick does not seem very generous to celebrate his hard work. Poor Lad. He said today’s Biology exam was RUBBISH and CONFUSING, and it turns out that Lad and his friends have all written different answers to some of the questions. But looking on the bright side, one of them must be right.
Young Lad had a busy day yesterday, with after-school cricket training, and has taken to playing football in the garden after dinner of an evening. The only fly in this ointment is when he kicks all the balls over the fences into numerous neighbours’ gardens and then has to wait for everyone to throw them back. He gets told off for his poor control and ball skills, but I feel this is harsh. This evening Young Lad is relaxing on the sofa watching Police Interceptors, which is always a favourite when there is bugger all else on telly. He has also eaten a whole packet of Thorntons mini caramel chocolate shortbreads, and made the slight error of not saving any for Lad.
It was beautiful at the river tonight, and was the sort of evening that makes you glad to be alive. I haven’t seen the Bastard Swans down there for ages, thinking about it, and am hoping they’ve flown a long way away, possibly into an electricity pylon. The May trees were out in full blossom, cow-parsley hung its delicate head across the paths, and a warm breeze fluttered past my ears. The sound of birdsong was only spoilt by the endless sneezing and moaning about bldy hayfever. Being a school night, there were no large groups of teenagers sitting around, which made our walk less threatening, but then rather poor on the snack-finding front. We marched through Far Field – what, you thought we might be having a gentle evening stroll? – to the rhythm of Abba’s One of Us. Cheerful and uplifting as ever, and there’s no way the original was intended for that tempo. I was dragged along on the lead most of the time, as there was nobldy time tonight to bath me if I rolled in anybldy fox poo.
Now, I did promise to tell you how Lad fared, on the last day of school last week. You may remember that it is “traditional” for students to lark about and play silly tricks on this day; Lad and his friends were bound to have made exciting plans, as they are renowned at their school for their very high level of achievement in larking about. Indeed, plans had been made that involved superglue, smoked haddock, and classroom door signs. Not together, I don’t think. But Readers! Lad’s plans were thwarted as he and his friends had “minders” to accompany them from room to room all day long. Oh the disappointment. One can only wonder at the mentality of the staff, who decided to play safe and escort certain pupils round the building all day. This was such a shame, and a dreadful waste of smoked haddock. Lad has an early exam tomorrow, at 9am. He has been told he will be getting on a bus at daybreak, to ensure he is there in time.
Well, tomorrow is Wednesday and who knows what will be going on. I’m hoping for a nice walk with dear Ebony, whom I haven’t seen for several days. I’m also hoping I may be taken to cricket in the evening, as we’re now several weeks into the season and I haven’t been within sniffing distance of the bird poo on the pitch.
See you soon, Readers.