So I’ve passed the halfway mark now and managed to put something on my blog site every day for the past sixteen days.
Some days have been easier than others.
There have been mornings when I’ve had to get out of bed early because something wanted to jump out of my head and my fingers, and onto the keyboard.
On other mornings I’ve dragged myself out of bed and stared zombie-like at my ergonomic keyboard, waiting for the elusive muse to hit me. My muse is not a gentle soul.
Inspiration has come from some familiar and other more bizarre quarters.
Writing isn’t confined to early mornings though; frantic to get something written before midnight, I have now discovered that WordPress is in a different time zone so I have an extra hour to play with – which is nice. Technically though, I have actually been burning the midnight oil on more than one occasion.
Going away for the weekend was a little tricky. The hotel we stayed at provides free wi-fi but only for one device. As we are a two-phone, several Kindle and a laptop couple – some’s gotta give. The laptop won and I managed to get my words online in time whilst Hub snoozed over his Sudoku.
Yesterday was more problematic.
Back home and our internet provider didn’t.
The router was fine – everything was fine at our end – but gremlins in our provider’s garden shed caused internet grief throughout the country.
You forget how many things you use the internet for: FaceAche, Twitter, ThisismyJam, Amazon, the news (BBC and Yahoo), my Fitbit (Google it) and online banking to name but a few.
Gap Boy feigned disinterest and played a game on his computer that he’d been meaning to have a go at for ages. He also ate us out of house and home.
Hub and I cleared junk out of the garage and did shopping (to replace all the food that GB ate) but in between times we both sat down at our computers and cursed the provider (and the wi-fi, and the computer, and anything else that seemed remotely connected to the computer – poor mouse).
Mafeking was relieved – and so were we – when the internet came back to us just before dinner.
For all his disinterest, GB was back online and bellowing at his buddies within a very short time.
Hub and I checked everything out to make sure it was all okay. Life returned to normal – ish.
Peace returned to the household.
The internet has been a bit sluggish today but we have had other issues to occupy our time.
I had to make a phone call that could have been patronising but as I started to talk I realised that it was me that had made the error, not the company concerned. My tone changed from officious to extremely apologetic within seconds and after some minor grovelling the awfully nice lady agreed to sort things out although it wasn’t strictly company policy.
The tip trip and charidee shop were supposed to be next on the menu but first, I decided to conduct a scientific experiment. I was making chili in the slow cooker for dinner and discovered that I’d made too much. so I put half in the slow cooker and half in my lovely purple casserole. The slow cooker was put on low and the casserole in the oven on gas mark three.
Which one would be better?
Only one way to find out.
Finally got rid of the rubbish, and the better stuff was happily received at the charity shop.
Onwards to M&S for some totally indulgent shopping and a phone call from GB who woke up and smelled the chili. He was gutted to hear that he couldn’t eat it for another couple of hours and whinged for food.
Home again and GB was right, the whole house did smell of chilli. We waited impatiently till six o’clock and as Hub and I tucked into our sensible-sized portions, the mother in me was gratified to see GB wander past with a huge bowl of chilli in his hands. He was at pains to point out however, that real chilli doesn’t have beans in it.
GB came back for seconds and having emptied the purple pot, made a start on the slow cooker.
GB’s scientific analysis. Both edible but they still shouldn’t have beans in and how dare I smuggle button mushrooms into his slow cooker as well?
B and T gave us some homegrown rhubarb yesterday so I may spend a little time trawling the net for some nice recipes.
All this domesticity is most unusual for me. I have no housework gene and my enthusiasm for cooking is sporadic at best. Perhaps I am being spurred on by the fact that by the time Hub and I reach our 26th wedding anniversary I will have a new kitchen – fingers crossed.
A new kitchen with a Belfast sink, drawers that don’t fall apart in your hands, cupboards with doors and LOADS of sparkly black quartz worktop space.
For now, I will just have to move a few piles of flotsam around in order to clear a space for some rhubarb chopping.