What to do when…..

OK, I know, that’s a weird title for a blog, but stick around, it’s not just a title…..It’s an excuse!! Why do I need an excuse? have a quick look at the post dates. You noticed? Yeah, that’s right, it’s been a while.
I know, I know, you’ve been checking back to my page every half hour or so for the last month, wondering where I’ve been, wondering when the next spellbinding installment was going to magically appear. I’m guessing you turned to tranquilisers to get you through? Did you find yourself wandering the streets aimlessly, lacking my guidance. (Oh c’mon, I’m trying to feed my ego here). Please accept my humble apologies. (no really, I’m not kidding)
OK, here it is, my ‘Excuse’
My Mother came to stay!
No, not my mother in law, my actual, legal, biological Mother.
What’s that? So what? OK, a little background for you; My mother decided, some time ago, that swapping her three bedroom home and independent life for a resort style community, complete with pool, apartment, three square meals and drugs on tap was not for her. So she did what many retirees do and joined the ranks of the ‘Grey Nomads’. So far I think she has done the equivalent mileage of to the moon and back four or five times (in a Winnebago, the Apollo command module was taken)
Good for her!
Now, when she drops in on us (I think she actually calls in to see the dog, but maybe I’m just jealous) she normally dosses down in her mobile home. All good, no fuss, minimum disruption, we get our ironing done, not to mention the washing up, and my partner gets to show off his culinary skills to someone else (Did I mention that he loves to cook? Yeah, I know, lucky old me)
So what went wrong? What brought about the long hiatus between the all important blogs?
In a word ‘Transmission’. The Winnebago decided to take a holiday as well. Long story short, the mobile home wound up very un-mobile in the repair shop, and I had to find room for my mother in a dwelling that was now utterly without a spare room!
Yeah, clever me!
How did I achieve this? Did I achieve this? Did my poor old Mum have to sleep with the dog? (Well, yes, but that’s not how this story ends)
I’ll tell you next time.

Tweet This Post