This was some week.
It’s had everything from sequins and sparkles to a very real need to buy rubber gloves – and a shitload of bleach – that I foresee in the near future.
The glamour you see on my social media platforms (well, sometimes) comes out of the front door that I have to close with a ‘knack’ every day – to prevent 5 tonnes of cardboard boxes successfully escaping from the hall. It’s destined for glory in a new craft project, but it’s still really, really, really getting on my nerves now.
That’s the untidy flipside of the performative domestic art that some bloggers practice like sorcery.
Well, there’s a reason I don’t feature my home very often. It’s a normal family home – with Lego and gross crusty bits of toothpaste left on taps by children – and probably an adult.
There is a posh hoover, but you’d be left in no doubt because I never fold it up and put it away. The towels are never hung up or folded to my specs in the bathroom where the laundry basket also resides – where it was once useful. Now it’s next to a pile of dirty clothes that don’t like living in it, by all accounts.
It started on Sunday at work and on a good note – all cute gift displays and the patience to capture what is surely the most perfect Boomerang of a reasonably priced, bath bomb stuffed, clear plastic bauble ever.
We did some homemaking on Tuesday. Well, we got a new doormat and plant – but little things make us happy.
On Wednesday, Child 1 started her career in fashion and is now drawing portraits of all my colleagues for Christmas cards.
Also, I found a Spotify playlist made for my mood – ‘It’s the 90s and You’re the Leading Lady in a Nora Ephron movie’ (just click here) and walked the school run while imagining myself on a cute bike wearing bright white new runners.
The joy was slightly adjusted when one of my colleagues told me that she can (and I quote) ‘really see you as the bossy best friend’. The worst part is that I’m not sure if I’m Marie or Jess in this scenario.
Lastly, I had planned to spend a weekend with old school friends (and fondue) – I even had this bottle of ‘priogrigio’ to review with them – but norovirus has rained on that parade. Oh well. I guess I could use the time to tidy up the ‘pile corner’ (see background of the above photo) in the kitchen… But I’ll probably pass.
In case your child falls victim to this pernicious medical nightmare, see picture above that shows the contents of a reasonably comprehensive noro combat kit. Just add towels, copious changes of clothing, newspaper all over any expensive – in terms of monetary or sentimental value – items you own (protect your Persian carpets and pack away your Sevres), at least 2 washing machines and the immersion whacked up to turbo for the duration.
In conclusion, I want beer. Or gin. Whichever… But I’m saving the priogrigio for the rescheduled reunion. That’s what friends are for.
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