Wednesday, December 31, 2008


Got a chest infection - send good vibes to make it go away, please! I haven't time to be ill.

Domestic Goddess in G51

By 10.30 am yesterday morning, the Hogmanay fruit-cake for hubby's workmates was baking in the oven, the bread was in the bread-machine, and the soup just simmering nicely for the boys and their guest to enjoy at lunchtime. Tea-time saw home-made Cornish pasties on the table - ah, the joy of the festive season!

In between times, having attended to everyone's sustenance for the day, the ingredients for chapter 3 of my doctoral thesis still lie expectantly on the hard-drive. (Now for the serious cooking.)

Nigella, eat your heart out. You've got it so EASY!

The good news, the really good news, is that the washing machine engineer fixed our machine yesterday morning. So we're not only well-nourished - we can wear clean clothes, too!
Image from Musings of a Domestic Goddess blogspot, with thanks. Sourced from photobucket (

Monday, December 29, 2008

2008 rolls to an end!

Christmas Day, and everything was fine. Nice meal, everyone happy with gifts - I can now wear my lovely new pink fluffy dressing gown, so the VERY old green one went in the washing machine before heading for the charity shop.

  • Washing machine failure - disaster! It has only just had its first birthday.

I called the warranty people on Saturday morning. BAD NEWS! No Hoover engineers in Scotland, and the first free call-out is ... wait for it ... 15th January 2009!

Sunday - a friend round to dinner. Nice glass of red wine with the roast, and chocolates afterwards. I don't get migraines, I get headaches. Ended the day with a horrendous one.

Woke up today with the same headache. (NOT a migraine, I don't get migraines.) Took car for its MOT - which it may well fail - but good news with the warranty people. I may get the washing machine fixed by the end of the week. Does this mean things are looking up?

The Grand Plan for the next fortnight is to Get Chapter 3 drafted. Unfortunately, the thumping headache isn't conducive to intellectual composition. Think I'll catch up on reading - not much less challenging, but at least saves me having to be creative for a few hours!

Image thanks to

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

At work this week, we had to empty our office, because we're being moved to another one (currently being created out of two small ones). So, by this afternoon, I was dispossessed, wandering around with my handbag and with nowhere to go!

Then my mobile rang. Each boy wanted to tell me what the others had said and done to him while their father was out delivering last-minute gifts and cards. I warned them to calm down and make friends before he got back through the door. No point in upsetting him by reenacting a condensed version of World War 2!

I've said it before - I live in Testosterone Manor. It's a strange, alien environment. Last night I was out buying my own Christmas present from SuperSpouse - a nice pink fluffy dressing-gown. "I never would have thought you'd want a pink one", said a mystified SuperSpouse, when I showed him it. In a sense, its pink fluffiness is an act of defiance. Just letting them know that I am NOT the fifth boy in the house!

All the gifts are bought, all the cards sent. I'm off work for two and a half weeks (the idea being that Chapter 3 starts being written on Saturday!). I just need to write my Christmas Dinner kitchen timetable, then do some gentle tidying up and sorting out.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

I was at the supermarket car-park when the policeman approached me and asked to breathalyse me. It was 6 am. "But I only had a half-glass of wine last night", I protested, before slumping over the wheel. (The bottom half of a small, handmade, Fair-Trade glass, to be absolutely accurate.)

He checked the machine - it was clear - before sighing, "Madam, can I suggest you get a bit more sleep?"

Then I woke up to the alarm-clock going off - it was 5.30 am and time to go to Asda! Could it possibly have been preying on my mind as I slept???

Wednesday, December 17, 2008


Well, what else do you call the toe next to the big one? Anyway, I leapt out of bed on Monday morning, caught my foot in my nightie, and went flying. What a way to start the week. Spent 4.25 hours at A&E that evening to leave with 2" of surgical tape and a diagnosis that I'd broken the toe. Gee whizz!

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Friday - Dad's night out. Mum was on parental "taxi" duty.

Saturday - Dad worked a.m., slept p.m., rehearsed evening. Mum to Post Office; also washing, ironing, online supermarket order - and "taxi" again (twice). And 90 minutes' research at the end of it!

Sunday - Dad played at church; Mum slept. Then washing, cooking, "taxi", and more shopping.

Sunday evening - Mum taken for meal by work-related overseas visitors. "Who's making the boys' tea?", SuperSpouse enquired. Go figure!

Ah, Christmas! Working mums fit two lives into one lifetime every week of the year, then triple it during December. And that's the merriment everyone else calls Christmas.

Image from stillthedudeabides at, with thanks. (It's not me, but it could so easily be! I searched on Christmas exhaustion.)

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Greetings from Testosterone Manor! I'm surrounded by moody males, and it's enough to make me contemplate the alternatives.

Christmas is creeping up on me, and I am only a breath away from drowning in all I have to do. I shouldn't be updating this blog, for a start. I have three-quarters of a doctoral thesis to write, but more pressingly, a Christmas tree to set up. And the ironing. And odd bits of tidying up and shopping and, and, and ....

A friend was telling me about adolescents and their sleep patterns. Apparently puberty trips the "adult sleep time" switch, so they want to go to bed late. But their bodies are still developing and need sleep, therefore they either need to sleep on in the morning, or their families have to put up with the consequences of a sleep-deficited teenager. Great!

And is there also a key to Grumpy Old Men and how to keep them on side, too?!