Back to Reality / Bump Goes Gravity!
Hello! You may not have noticed me going AWOL, but I have actually been on holiday in France for two weeks. I think there were a couple of automated posts, but that was it. Please excuse my absence, I was unashamedly skiving from every day responsibilities.
Anyway, I’m back in Blighty, and have a pile of washing a mile high. I have to admit it’s been hard being back here. When I walked back in the door after the journey home, it looked like the house had been ransacked by a herd of elephants, mucky ones too. We left in a bit of a rush….OK, well, a lot of a rush. I discovered half way to the airport that I was really obviously wearing my T’shirt inside out for example. That kind of a rush.
Whilst I was away I kept a bit of a diary about what we were doing, so I have a bit of waffle planned about the South of France area around Perigeux, travelling with kids, cooking for 15 people (There were a lot of us, all of us with healthy appetites!), 20,000 year old cave paintings, canoeing down the river Dronne and small cute lizards.
We had a whale of a time, and if I could jump on a plane and go back there now I would. In fact if squatter’s rights were any good over there, I might even have considered just refusing to leave.
Reality sucks sometimes. I know holidays don’t last forever, but I wish they did. Today we decided to remedy the stampeding elephant damage and tidy up, the kids took this as their cue to act like little rebels and refused to co-operate with anything. We got snappy, first one child cried, then the other one did.
In desperation we decided to leave the house to get some shopping, which was more difficult than we thought. Both kids began physically fighting over a small yellow squishy ball and I had to split them up. One child was sobbing on the steps on one side of the living room door, the other one was wailing, hitting out at me and desperately trying to get through the door so he could continue scrapping for the love of the small squishy ball.
At this point I thought I may as well just join in; I sat there on the floor, restraining Sausage, with tears rolling down my cheeks. Not wanting the kids to see me like that, I went into the kitchen and stood there weeping pathetically and repeating ‘I don’t want to be home’ more than a few times. Ridiculous really when I think about it. After a couple of deep breaths I got a grip on myself and went back in. They’d calmed down and the Battle of the Squishy Yellow Ball was over, so we finally managed to get the kids out of the house.
All I can think is that I must have been on a real high whilst on holiday and I’ve just had to hit the ground running on my return to Britain which has stung my feet a little. I’d like to sit down a bit, but Darlek is back at school tomorrow, the house needs cleaning, washing needs doing, gardens need tidying, stuff needs clearing out, colonoscopy ‘orribleness this week too – I’m panicked at the prospect of it all. So, yep, back to reality, bump goes gravity!
I have a plan though – I shall win the lottery and buy a chateau in France. Or maybe I’ll just eat nothing but french bread and pate, wear a beret and a blue and white stripy T’shirt, ride a bicycle with onions slung around the handlebars and say ‘Oui monsieur!’ a lot. I can pretend can’t I! If I turn the heating up in the house and watch french telly the illusion will be complete! *sighs* …..or maybe not…..
Well, that’s goodnight from me then! I’m off to dream of aqua-marine swimming pools; deep blue, high skies; french babbling rivers and beautiful sunsets. Tomorrow I’ll deal with the drizzle, or swim the channel back to France- one or the other. I think I know which.