Rabbit Holes

Today feels like it has slipped through my fingers. I rolled out of bed a minute or so after the radio alarm clock erupted into life at 7am, and stomped off towards the shower. A few minutes later I arrived in the kitchen to discover a washing up mountain from the night before. My other half wandered into the kitchen – rubbing her eyes – and apologised. She had made lunches for everybody late the night before, and didn’t get as far as drying anything, or putting anything away. By the time I finished, the children had gone to school, and I had little or no time to get my own things together.

Fast forward through a long and frustrating day, and you discover me in the kitchen again, spending the majority of the evening washing up after a marathon cooking session. My other half has been on a self-sufficiency drive recently, and part of that currently involves making meals for lunches from scratch, rather than buying anything ready-made. The food is great, and it’s fantastic to have lunches ready made, but I’m dealing with the bit you never see on TV cooking shows – the wreckage and washing up just out of sight of the TV cameras.

I finished washing up just after 10pm. That’s all I have to say about that.

I’m sitting in the study now – writing this, listening to music, and wondering about fetching the left-over bottle of sherry from Christmas before reading the various blogs I try to follow. I could do with a rabbit hole to jump down for a while.

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