Tuesday 20 August 2013

The best days of holidays

I have my finger off the pulse of the house. Basically, all my parental duties are cancelled for August.

The children have helped. Shark has gashed open her knee which has put paid to her sub aqua ambitions and means I am not driving her backwards and forwards to lakes to be killed by rat wee. Otherwise, not much doing. Squirrel and Tiger I am taking twice a week to a film-making course at a local arts group and I even managed to split that activity with another mama.

I guess it is all going well; I think they are making an intense psychological thriller about a mutant banana who goes crazy and ties up tomatoes, probably threatening to squirt them unless they reveal the secrets of the grapes. It will probably make a screen debut at your Cineworld soon.

Anyway, neither of my offspring have complained about the film-making experience yet, and no-one from the arts centre has rung up with a strained voice to request their removal.

In fact my only real interaction with the whole event has been to provide lunch.

I began that parental responsibility admirably. I demonstrated to anyone who cared to look how great was my love for my children; I delivered it in a nutritionally sound packed lunch, containing artisan cheese sandwiches, fingers of organic carrots, sun-dried raisins and petite apples with no artificial waxing.

The enthusiasm wore off quickly. Today I forgot. I dug down into the strata of the freezer that is March 2012 to locate a pack of reduced price white-flour bagels. I threw them at Tiger as she was leaving, shouting Don't forget lunch! Fortunately I missed her head by at least an inch.

Otherwise, I am spending my hours serenely, gently, in my Knicker Drawers. Today I have stitched the book made for anyone who ever stood on a rock, looking out to sea. Squirrel has joined forces with me on this one; we have collaborated splendidly and I may have found my design partner. She handmade the paper that I used for the inside back cover, for selected torn pages on the inside, and for the fragments tucked into the back of the book onto which you can stitch shells or attach pictures. It's charming. If I sell it, I shall pay her handsomely.






No comments: