So we are in the last week of school holidays and the enormously unrealistic mountain of to-do jobs is still enormously unrealistic.
Today involves approximately 5 million completely unrelated, dull and not crafty jobs to do - like:
- buying more food. Are mine the only children capable of eating more than most nations gross national output of food a week whilst on holidays - does this mean they starve during school times? It is one of the big life questions isn't it?
- Dropping trousers in the the take-up-trousers-lady. (DO not get on my case about this ! Just because I sew does not mean I have to take up my own trousers. If I take up my own trousers ...then I know I have taken up my own trousers and I am sure they are wonky and taken-up looking. I am self-conscious of my taken up trousers and then I rarely wear them - if I give them to the take-up-trousers lady , she takes them up, I love them and I wear them- and I love going to the take-up-trouser lady's shop)
- I have to buy new bras today - (too much information???). I HATE bra shopping with a passion but as the existing bra's are only holding together through good wishes and willpower. It has to be done. I dislike it so much that I did, briefly consider becoming a bra-less crusader but given the effects of gravity and the way I hunch over my sewing machine......... you all get the picture.
- I have to go to the post office and buy groceries and take this poor computer in to the doctor (see how I just let that most distressing fact slip into the list as if it doesn't even bother me ).
- I may just need to buy some fabric to bind granny's quilt- still slightly undecided on that one.
- I have to do all this with 13 yr old son as 17 yr old daughter has half the local teenage population descending on our house in a few hours- yes stores have been laid up, the pantry is groaning with food(which will last a nanosecond) and valuables have been placed out of reach. That last bit is not because of theft, these kids are ENORMOUS and the move and skitter around with all the co-ordination of dancing wheelbarrows - things get broken -they just do!
- oh and I have to boil up 6 litres of fake blood.