My youngest daughter L is a fairweather vegetarian. She isn’t a vegetarian in Subway, nor in any establishment which has half decent bacon or sausage sandwiches on the breakfast menu. Or when faced with a packet of Fridge Raiders or Pepperami. Otherwise, she is very much committed to the cause. Or so you might think.
This morning I have been clearing out the cupboards, fed up with never being able to find matching lids for lunch boxes or bamboo coffee cups. I have thrown away 3 flasks for which I had the flask and the cup, but no stopper. No doubt they will turn up in the next few days, along with many Tupperware containers, the lids of which have joined the flasks in the dustbin. And 8 or so lidless water bottles.
As I was checking to see if any odd lids had found their way inside the larder, I managed to sort out a box full of spare chargers and batteries along the way. And as I was sorting the batteries, multiple boxes of fruit tea toppled out of the larder onto the floor, so I sorted them too, along with the packets of noodles and pasta, which have dedicated storage boxes, each of them holding approximately 2 packets of noodles when they are stored horizontally. The others piled on top of them just fall off and knock over everything else. So I have stacked them all upright as they should be, in the hope that they might stay that way for a few days. I know I shouldn’t bother, but every so often I find that I cannot cope with looking at it any longer, and we have so much food that goes to waste because rather than search through the tumbling piles in the larder, Mr C just goes out and buys more and adds to the problem.
During my sortings, I came across a packet of milkshake mix, with an expiry date of September 2019. I never can tell whether L will or won’t when it comes to outdated food, so I kept it just in case. .
She heard the noises and came to see what was going on, and sat and watched for a while, playing with the dogs and taking photos on her phone of her badly ripped jeans.
‘Mum.....’ she began, ‘Would you rather starve to death or eat Polly in sausage form?’ (Polly is our much loved black cockapoo.)
'I would definitely starve', I replied.
‘I wouldn’t.' she said. 'I would eat her and Paddy too.’ (Paddy is our equally loved white Bichpoo).
‘I thought you were a vegetarian.’ I said quietly, not wanting to start an argument when things were going so well. I usually avoid challenging her when she is being a fairweather vegetarian, grateful for every gram of protein that finds its way into her stomach. But dogs are dogs; I couldn’t just let it go….
'I am, but if I was starving and had nothing to eat, I would definitely eat the dogs.’
‘I would definitely starve!.’
‘It would be OK mum. There wouldn’t be fur or teeth or anything. It would just look like meat.‘
I could no more eat my pets than eat my own or anyone else’s children. L is more of a Bear Grylls character and as a result will no doubt last for much longer than me. Mercenary little devil. The dogs, unaware of her plans, and always grateful for whatever attention she throws their way, were happy when she snuggled up to them on the sofa.
. Maybe she was feeling a little guilty. Or sizing them up, and deciding which one to eat first. When she’d had enough, she lurked around the kitchen for a while, until she spotted
the milkshake mix,
‘Ooooh what’s this?’
I told her that it was slightly out of date but should be fine, and did she still want it. She replied;
‘I’m fine thanks’.
A prime example of double standards; she would eat our pet dogs, her hairy siblings, but not milkshake past its best before date. That’s teenagers for you.
I am equally contrary, and have already forgiven her for being so mercenary. On Saturday she made me my favourite coffee and walnut cake for my birthday, and bought me the best book I have read in a long time. Fleabag The Scriptures. It is truly amazing and beautiful but also a bit shocking in places and sad. I have yet to watch the show, although I have seen the trailers so I can visualise the characters. I am certain that I will love it, but I just want to wait and savour the book first. I am a little concerned that if I watch the show, it will diminish my love for the book, as happened with the Harry Potter films. I had the characters and the settings so clearly in my head, and once I watched the film, they disappeared forever. Fleabag is the sort of book where you have to read each page a few times to be sure that nothing has been missed. Phoebe Waller-Bridge is a genius, using so few words to such great effect, often shocking but hilarious and tragic and witty, all at the same time. I am awestruck.
I had a lovely birthday, and was very spoilt, with meals out, thoughtful presents and a big surprise from Mr C. One of the characters in my novel is named Emerald, in honour of a ring which her father gave to her mother before she was born. Mr C went to great lengths to find an identical ring to the one which I had conjured up out of the ether. And what’s more, he managed to keep it a complete secret. What a man! And now I am off to write about a new character called Ferrari. Fingers crossed!
Updates for this week –
Writing - I am cracking on with edits, and have invested in a new book which is proving to be excellent at helping me to shape my novel. It’s called ‘Save the cat! writes a novel’ and is challenging me to view my writing from another perspective. Very thought provoking and also exciting. I am pleased with the progress I have made over the last week, and I’m feeling really motivated.
Running - In mid November, I had a hysterectomy and had to take a break from running, but now it’s time to get back to it. I find it hard to motivate myself, but I also know how much fitter and healthier I feel once I get into it, and there is always a worry that if I don’t do it soon, I never will. I had a couple of false starts towards the end of January, when I started to run but then realised it was too soon,. Now I think I am properly recovered and ready. My poor old body has surprised me and I have found that I can still run for thirty minutes plus, although my pace is much slower (which I hadn’t believed possible). My breathing is fast when I start, but it soon evens out and slows after a short time, and stays fairly steady. I was so worried that I would lose my fitness completely and have to start again from scratch after a break of three months, but I am pleasantly surprised. My legs however are feeling the strain and I am finding it quite tough physically, as muscles are reawakening and being worked much harder that they are used to. They ache when I go to bed and in the mornings, I am like Aunt Sally from Worzel Gummidge going down the stairs. Today I ran for just over 40 minutes, and returned home with achy legs and a very red face, but otherwise unscathed. All I can do is try my best, and I am moving in the right direction, albeit at a snail's pace.
Make-up- My step-daughter F has given me some instructions on how to use the green colour correction lotion, so I no longer look like a corpse. I also have a green eyeliner, which, inspired by the ladies on Death in Paradise, I have been using under my lower lashes (which was how we did it in the 80s). I wouldn’t wear it on a night out, but at least it distracts attention from my bright red face.
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