The clock just ticked past 10pm. It’s been an eventful evening. After a long and stressful day at work, I received a call moments before leaving – asking if anybody could go and pick up my eldest daughter from a bus-stop a mile or so up the road. She was standing in the pouring rain, and two buses had already driven past full of passengers.
After calling across the office, and getting a number of thumbs up, I called back, and discovered Miss 19 was nearly home – a stranger at the bus stop had called a taxi, and offered everybody waiting the opportunity to share the cost.
I cycled home through the rain, and stopped at the supermarket to buy food for the next few days. After being told off at the doctor, my other half is on strict instructions not to do ANYTHING with her injured hand (kind of huge accident with a knife, if you didn’t see my post at the weekend). I filled my backpack and a shopping bag with supplies, and walked out into rain falling harder my the minute.
By the time I got home I was soaked through to my underwear, and greeted by a scene of devastation in the hallway, kitchen, and lounge. While unpacking the food, I realised I had not bought anything gluten free (two of my daughters are coeliac). I thought I had – but it turns out the supermarket has started packaging their own ready-meals in exactly the same packaging as the “free from” meals.
Yes – tonight we had ready meals – shoot me.
I pulled my coat back on, turned around, and walked back out into the rain – trudging the mile and a half route back into town for a second visit to the supermarket.
I got home a little after 7pm, and started cooking – summoning the children from each corner of the house at perhaps half-past. An hour later I was washing up, tidying up, and continuing the endless fight against a house filled with all manner of miscellaneous “stuff” – most of it intended for carnival floats, garden parties, knitting projects, junk modelling, fancy dress – you name it – we probably have it somewhere.
For the last hour I’ve been digging around in the junk room, trying to find a missing charger. Phone chargers are like gold dust in this house. One of the children obviously discovered the charger for the Raspberry Pi (which had been on the desk some time ago) was rated similarly to a fast-charger plug for mobile phones. It’s now nowhere to be seen.
I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do for the next little while. I should really go catch up on the blogs I attempt to read, but I’m ridiculously tired. I just downed a coffee, and it bounced off me with little or no effect at all. I think I may be immune to caffeine.