So tonight I’ve come home, after a very long day at work and bemoaned the mess in the house. I reached for the bottle and headed off to my study to read while no 2 boy did the cooking.
It took a while to relax, I was reading “Aged to perfection” – no, not me! but a book about American houses, great pics and a good read – and slowly it came through. The happy feeling in the house is what I’m referring to, a little laughter here and some music there, the Simpsons in the background and the rush of dogs playing in the corridors. So I had a little mooch around, the smell of stuffed peppers cooking in the Aga are pretty mind-blowing, although almost ruined by my tripping over a black Lab preening her toes in the unlit hallway. In the kitchen the cook is giving the young sister her first lesson on the bass guitar which she appears to be settling into well, so I ignore the beautiful granite counter with, amongst the cooking debris, the two new dog balls on ropes purchased that morning plus everybody’s school/hand bags and coats. Please also note the empty unmentionable bottle next to my newly filled glass of Sauvignon Blanc (beautifully chilled).
Moving on, past rather stupid English Pointer fixated on the shadows caused by the guitar lesson, I pass by the Simpsons to see Harvey playing his guitar in his studio, with his foot tapping against the remains of the Christmas Hamper (from 2013). Next door is no 3 boy who has hooked his laptop up to the mothership and piano-keyboard and is writing a song. While I’ve been writing this they’ve all moved into the kitchen and are having a very heated debate about the merits – or no merits – of Coldplay. So who cares about the mess, the house is happy! What more could a very tired person want……
I’ve been tidying my study since September and vowed to spend the Christmas break sorting it once and for all. But there are so many interesting and inspiring books to read in here that it’s hard to get motivated. And I’m surrounded by pictures of my children, Elvis and various animals, including the ashes of Buster the Great Dane, so it’s a very cosy place to escape to. Someone’s started throwing the dog ball down the corridor and there are noises of crashing and yapping, so I think I may just have to fill my glass and be thankful for the family noises that one day I will miss.