I looked for the 'can't sleep' forum for 10 minutes at 4 o’clock this morning. I could have done it at 2.30am. Anyway it's not there so I left a comment on a ‘can’t sleep’ post and have sat down at PC again armed with tea and toast, to blog and see if that helps.
It feels a bit like a confession...I don't have time to blog at present and feel bad for not 'keeping in touch’ on purple coo as much as I should and reading everyone's blogs-6 weeks holidays and all that...hey ho, I always wished I could find more hours in the day. Maybe this is the answer?
I could no longer listen to the clock tick tick ticking in my head or stand the bedding being rythmically lifted up and down, up and down syncronised to the gentle "Pphhwww's" of the 'puffer Billy’ lying next to me.
Of course it’s his fault I am awake. The Workaholic Hubby has a VERY IMPORTANT meeting in London and has to be on the train. His last words as we went to sleep last night were "Please darling, whatever you do...kick me out of bed in the morning..."
And so it has been that since 2.30am I have worried about oversleeping...and getting all my orders finished before we go on holiday next week (we got to Greece on the 25th for a week.)
Then in my head, the great bikini v swimsuit debate...I'm only 40 for heavens sake...but despite being blessed with a boy like figure and only weighing nine and a half stone I still have a jelly belly. Two 9lb+ babys and a penchant for Maltesers and Galaxy chocolate. No chance to go swimming every day with the boys off school...and all the orders to do...and all the lists to make to remember everything before we go away.
Anyway swimsuits won't hide the cellulite on my flabby thighs.
It's Nans birthday on Saturday. I have kept the receipts because whatever I buy her won't be right. This birthday I have bought her a tracksuit. Not a Nike/chav type of track suit. She is 89 on Saturday and despite having survived a major operation and spending a week in ITU earlier this year, she won’t be running far with her squeeky zimmer. So it is a Bon Marche 'special'-plum coloured pants made from a soft feel chenille/crimpelene mix with an elasticated waistband and a co-ordinating cream and plum striped top, 'roomy fit' but not like a tent. I have cut the label out already as she doesn't like those sticking in her skin. But I bet she doesn't like the stripes...will say they make her look big...
Good job I have bought her a hand crafted cushion from one of my 'Made in Shropshire'colleagues. That will be the boys gift to her. I hope she can read the wording with her catarracts. I suspect she will complain about the buttons sticking in her back.
She rang me yesterday to tell me my Dad was coming over today from Hull.
“That will be nice for you,” I said.
“Yes, but I hope he doesn’t stop long, I don’t want to miss my programmes...I like my programmes in the afternoons...”
She doesn’t know but he’ll be leaving her at lunchtime. He’s meeting me for the 2nd time in 20 years... and his grandson's for the first time.
Idle Jack asked me last night “Do you think we’ll like your Dad Mum?”
“Remember he isn't just my dad, he's your Grandad" I replied, "and yes I think so. I do...” I answered.
He is a very likeable chap. My dad. Maybe I will become a ‘Daddy’s girl’ after all like some of my friends who that special bond with their dads... ‘Daddy’s Princess’...Maybe I am a bit old in the tooth for that. But it is nice to have him back in my life after all these years. All these wasted years...
Oh, how to tell Nan we are going away again. She complained last week when I came back from the caravan that I seemed to have been away most of the six weeks holidays. That's the idea. I am not her primary carer any more.
Maybe I should just go away and not mention it...she doesn't need to know. I could pretend I was at the Post Office when she tells me she rang...
She will only complain that I shouldn’t be leaving her when she’s so ill. And she won't make it to her next birthday. And that I need to protect the boys from the sun...and me getting skin cancer now I am ‘getting on a bit’...and gypsy’s abducting the boys...It’s the same every holiday. At least I am not going to Portugal.
Every day I think about little Maddie. Every day Quiet Mousie asks “Have they found little Maddie yet Mummy?” He must watch me watching the news. They won’t be out of our sight this holiday.
I haven’t got to Greece yet...Bags to make...Gingham Bags, Dinosaur bags, Fairy Bags, Pink Flower and Heart Bags, Boat Bags... ‘All personalised with a name/wording of your choice’... ‘an essential for the child starting school or nursery in September...’
Every year children start school in September and I say I am going to be better organised...Every year I don’t quite anticipate the demand for my little handcrafted items...but people like their children to have their own ‘special bag’ with their name on. Hand crafted in Shropshire and not 'Made in China.'
It is approaching 5am and the dog hasn’t lifted an eyelid to me. “Mad woman...” he dreams.
At least I didn’t sleep in.
Until another day
Bye for now
Where the Highway Splits
7 hours ago