A lot going on – but nothing much to tell.

There is a lot going on…but nothing much that grabs the writer in me and makes me want to spill. Nowt interesting. Nowt that is decipherable or even vaguely hinting at a deeper meaning. It is just life.


Mum had the medics examining her innards today. She and we are none the wiser as to what it all might mean. Mum is either being mysterious and secretive – or she genuinely hasn’t a clue what actually did happen today. The op happened, there was no follow-up doc to speak to her after and the nurse just asked her, mid-recovery and in an exasperated manner “didn’t the doctor speak to you Mrs R”? Ah well. More anon.


I did a quick work meeting this morning before coming home to fret. Truthfully, I am not concentrating on anything much just now. And so much of it seems pointless.


R, the two wee ones and I (after me throwing a stroppy hissy fit at R and his utter f*ing frustrating inability to make any suggestion about what we do, together as a family, at any bloody time – is this a “man thing”? that you men think women are best suited to deciding what to do with”leisure time”?) ended up in Peebles. Where it snowed during a sun-blasted day and my Birkenstocks proved spectacularly inappropriate footwear. To cheer myself I spent more money. 


When we got back I was still in a foul hormonal state – so I went up to my friend Shirley’s… And we put the world to rights. 


Well, we picked over our own respective tiny worlds. Drank wine. Smoked. Roundly and properly put the subject of men and their inadequacies through the mangle. And both laughed and cried.


I admitted to being a crabbit cow. And Shirley said she was too. So, we were crabbit cows who laughed on Saturday night.


I spent yesterday trying out a pastie recipe. Homage to the Coalition (non-Brits should google Pastie-gate to get a flavour of how us Toy-Town countries do our politicians – and how a traditional fast-food snack can level the mighty). I made so bloody many (I blame Jamie – he would encourage me!) that we have more of the minging things to eat for dinner today…


Earlier I pondered whether to walk to the Falls, but my laziness won. It is a bitterly cold day. 


So cold in fact that my would-be boy-child Ana has come in from playing football to look for tracksuit trousers. Here they both are – taken just 20 minutes ago – fresh from fighting over who kicked the ball into the bushes.