... less speed, so my mum used to say. Why didn't I take any notice of her?
Yesterday I had half an hour for lunch so ran home from work (only 6 doors away, so don't be too impressed that I can run miles!) to grab something to eat, make tea, hang washing out, bring washing in and generally charge round like an idiot!
Eldest son was going football training so had requested a light tea of soup and crusty bread. First make soup. Grab pan, pour in a little oil, heat gently and chop some veg to go in. Arghhh! Chopped thumb by mistake. Lots of blood (fortunately not on veg). Grab plaster. As tried to grab plaster, blood dripping onto floor. Grab kitchen roll, hold tightly over cut, wipe blood from floor. Put plaster on, then another and finally a third as blood still coming through.
Back to soup. Oil is now very hot and beginning to smoke. House stinks of burning oil. Lower heat, put in chopped onions, carrots, celery and tomatoes. Make lunch (toast, all I can find with time running out).
Ooh, Postie calls with a parcel. Beautifully wrapped parcel containing all sorts of goodness from Monkee Maker. Lovely bag and pincushion and oh heck, what's that smell?
Forgot to turn heat down. Veg is now burnt black and stuck to bottom of pan. House smells really bad now. Quick, change pans, rescuing what little veg remains. Turn round quickly, pan handle disappears up sleeve, grab pan, burn fingers.
Toast burnt. Phone rings. Call centre from somewhere abroad ('please go away I'm having a very bad nervous breakdown').
Decide to give up with soup. Decide instead son can have dried bread and cheese for his light tea. Washing can remain out (it later rained).
So instead I just went for the easy option. Go back to school, look after 29 loud 4 year olds instead and worry about tea and washing later.
Monkee Maker, I love my new bag, I love my new pincushion and I love my new little zippy bag. The chocolates were the only nice thing I managed to eat at lunch time. Thank-you very much.
So please excuse the lack of little hats today - the knitting needle keeps sticking to the plasters.
And just to show you that all is well really, here's a little Family Portrait.