Keeping Watch

Today was the first day of a week's leave from work. Years ago, when I was an exhausted, full-time working, single Mum the first day of holiday was always so desperately awaited and planned for. I used to get up in the morning, and put my daughter (now mother of the Bandits) out to school as usual. Then I would make myself up a breakfast tray and take it back to bed where I would be met by a fresh stack of library books, checked out in anticipation of a week of indolence.

The whole of that precious first day would be spent in bed; reading, drinking coffee, snoozing, listening to the radio, snoozing again. Oh the sheer innocent bliss of it. About 3pm I would leap into action, whirl around the house like a dervish, and be washed, dressed and ready to meet my wee lamb on her return from school.

There has been a dog in the house for the best part of 20 years now, and no chance of luxuriating in bed with books in the daytime! And truth be told, I find older bones don't much like to lie down too long. So, after the Dyson man hit the road this morning, so did Rocky and I. A nice walk round the village, before coming back home to spend a day sorting through the household admin. Car and home insurance are coming up for renewal, so I spent ages trying to get quotes. Also, following several days of IT problems, I back-Blipped all my missing entries.

The oven repair man came. The painter came. Jobs got done.

In the late evening, after tea and a final walk, I went out to give the tubs on the patio a good soaking as the forecasted rain had not materialised. Only a month ago it was still bright daylight at 10pm, but now it is dark and I was watering by moonlight.

Rocky lay at the kitchen door watching my efforts through the glass. Tomorrow I will have to do some more jobs which involve me actually getting in the car and going to town, so he'll be in charge of watching all day. He's not going to like it!