Weeza and co came over for lunch and the children are staying the night. School doesn’t start until Tuesday, but Weeza and Phil are back to work tomorrow. So I’m lucky enough to be spending the day being Granny. We will make cake, certainly. I also need to go down to the local store – we’re lucky enough to have a place just down the road that sells hardware and stuff, also chicken feed, which is what I need. I actually need to buy it in quantity, but a bag at a time will do for now. They sell small pets, rabbits, guinea pigs, birds and fish, so the children enjoy going to see them. They’re beautifully looked after and the pets sell quickly, it’s not a depressing pet store will unhappy animals.
The frost lay on the ground all day, but it’s due to be milder next week, which is good because I have some roses to plant, which I didn’t manage to do before Christmas. Zerlina and Gus helped me to take down the Christmas tree today and I rather miss it. I usually wait until Twelfth Night, being the traditional sort, but even I can’t pretend that the season extends any further, now that even the offices are opening again. On Tuesday, I’m likely to have little Hay for the day because Dilly will be at work and he isn’t very well – if you remember, he came here for a day a couple of weeks before Christmas and was quite poorly, just lay on the sofa looking unhappy. Sadly, the same virus, or whatever it is, seems to have recurred. The whole family has had it, but he’s had it twice.
Gosh, I ramble on. Um, there must be something interesting…well, no, I’m afraid not. It’s been an enjoyable afternoon and evening because of having the family here, but not remarkable. But that’s reminded me of what I was pondering when I couldn’t sleep last night.
I’m being very purposeful and taking any bit of enjoyment I can about anything, planning for the future but keeping it at a nice rosy distance so that I don’t have to focus too beadily on anything specific. Maybe, in a small way, it’s a bit like someone who has been through an awful ordeal or illness and takes as much as they can from every day, treats each moment as a bonus, lives each day as if it’s their last, and so on. However, to tell the truth, in the dark moments of the night, I can’t help seeing it all for the nonsense it is. None of it matters, does it? But there’s no alternative. If you’re going to keep going, you have to pretend it does.
I watched two films tonight, one was so violently unpleasant that I was startled, the other was a comedy and I was reading at the end, so I don’t know what happened. I could have spent the time better, really. Actually, I rather more enjoyed Zerlina’s choice earlier, which was a couple of episodes of Horrid Henry. I like Horrid Henry, repellent little brat that he is. Gus chose Fireman Sam and the little boy in that, Norman, is thoroughly annoying. When he disobediently went to the edge of a cliff, which crumbled so that he fell down it, I startled the children and myself by saying aloud that, with any luck, he wouldn’t survive the fall. I had to pretend I was joking. Of course, the fire brigade was called and annoying Norman got to say “sorry, Mam,” to his mother yet again. I seem to take the plots of children’s cartoons rather too seriously, on the whole.
Bedtime, darlings. I really didn’t sleep much last night and I’ll be splendidly busy tomorrow. Goodnight xxx