Tuesday, 7 February 2012

Life stoves my head in

I am writing this in my mother's kitchen, trying to make sense of the appalling practical mess I find myself in.

It started with my nanny's deciding to go back to her native St Lucia for 2 months, which in the run-up neccessitated all sorts of days off in which to tend to the personal admin that goes with leaving the country for two months. My cleaner, the beautiful and humorous M-, who is taking over from the nanny, was due to start her nannying duties when Kitty got norovirus. Then I got norovirus. Then just as the snow came down, our boiler finally gave out and I screamed and screamed until the boiler man agreed to come first thing on Monday morning to give us a new one.

So, reeling from 10 hours of vomiting, on Monday morning, I packed up the gargantuan volumes of cack required to spend two days away from home with a one year old and drove through the snow to my mother's house. I haven't got my diary. I've got no fucking idea what's going on. I can't find anything in my mother's house and my mobile phone battery is running out. I also forgot to pack spare pants and am wearing yesterday's. My hands are horrifyingly cracked, dried-out, bleedy and picked-at from the endless hand-washing and anxiety-picking that goes with two bouts of noro and being too distracted to find the hand moisturiser.

What else? Oh yes, the endless slew of crap and paperwork that goes with a minor amount of building work we are having done later on this year. The ghostly images in my head of some really scary things lurking in the back of the fridge and the larder. The horrifying thought of having to pack up and move out of the house for two months while our building work happens.

At the very least, Kitty is going through one of her fortnight-long phases of being totally delightful before she decides that being "challenging" is more interesting. Small mercies.

To cut a long story short: no cooking. But I leave you in the more than capable hands of EmFrid, who is about to tell you all about a bean and chorizo stew, any minute now.


  1. That Norovirus is horrid, it is bad enough dealing with your own attack but I should imagine even worse when your child has it. I hope that you are both feeling better by now. Is Giles not able to help with any of the current problems?

  2. Yes Giles has been terrific, I ought to have said, but he's not superman...

  3. I mean, could hardly expect him to remember to pack my spare pants

  4. Must be some building work to move out! Where will you go?

  5. This post is actually stressing me out... I wish you all the calm in the world!