So, Caitlin is in reception and Ieuan is in nursery and I am now free for a couple of hours each morning.
You'd think that the prospect of all this free time would have me skipping like a lamb (or an owl). Actually, I find myself immobilised by so much freedom.
You'd think that the prospect of all this free time would have me skipping like a lamb (or an owl). Actually, I find myself immobilised by so much freedom.
I meant to do some housework (honest). There are a tonne of chores (still don't know the difference between a Metric tonne and an Imperial one) to be done, not to mention DIY. I am rubbish at DIY. In school we had both metalwork and woodwork lessons and I proudly presented my parents with a piece of metal with a dent in and a piece of wood with a dent in.
I'm afraid I was lost when I turned on the TV to find Jeremy Kyle shouting. Having been less than calm, shall we say, on my first morning getting the kids off to school on my own (hubby having left early for the Big Smoke), it was vaguely reassuring to find someone who gets paid to shout. A lot. Plus it's comforting to spend time with people who clearly have bigger dental problems than I do.
And then, it was Holly and Philip running the gamut of news stories in no more than 3 or 4 minute segments in case anyone's attention span was less than this and they were in danger of filing a PPI Claim or claiming 'compo' for an accident involving a Chihuahua and the wrong ladder. People seem to be very fond of using completely the wrong ladder for a whole variety of obviously dangerous activities. My dad. For one. Dad will try to cut a hedge on a ladder designed for retrieving a pot of organic strawberry jam from a shelf even Sandi Toksvig could reach. But I digress. As usual.
I will have to find something meaningful to do with my time. Charity or cooking or reading the works of Shakespeare (again). I studied English Literature at Swansea University (very fond memories) and remember asking which Shakespeare plays we were required to cover for the course. "All of them" was the reply! You'd have to be in extreme dire straits to voluntarily re-read Titus Andronicus as far as I'm concerned.
No, this won't do. But what will?
