Windowlene'd Pets and A Baby Called Shrek

The most dramatic thing to happen this week has been the untimely demise of my washing line as it ‘pinged’ into two smaller unusable washing lines under the strain of my 20th load of post-holiday laundry. That, coupled with the packing, preparation and general bad attitude of children and husbands when abroad, has me wondering whether a ‘holiday’ in the true sense of the word [a time or period of exemption from any requirement, duty, assessment] can or will ever be had again.

A recurring soundtrack of washing machine rinse cycles, Chickie’s squeals of general dissatisfaction and Ringo Star’s droning as Thomas gets into yet another debate with Percy about whether blue engines are more useful than green, now accompanies my every move whilst at home or away.

The shroud of cloud that has engulfed England for the last three months is turning me into the granny version of Kate Winslet in Titanic, with pruney hands, a sallow complexion and too many daily sproutings of fresh white hairs to cull. The initial buzz of spending Accountant’s bonus on a new French wardrobe and bike now fading as constant downpours prevent my anticipated jaunts to the local co-op to purchase baguettes, sitting atop my shiny new bike with Le Chickié behind, looking all stripey and continental. Mais non.

It’s not all misery though. A few things have happened that have temporarily lifted my spirits.

My friend Jules has produced a new sproglet. A baby girl named ‘Shrek’ to add to her growing collection of baby girls.

Glam-Nan amused me with an update on a friend’s little boy, one year older and naughtier that Chick who ‘Windowlene'd’ his pet guinea pigs (both alive and well, and with no smears) and then wee’d up his dad’s suit by way of farewell as he left to go to work for the day.

Accountant tried out a new hair-do after repeated requests from friends and family that something should really be done about his very Accountant shaped head. After five minutes blow-drying and an introduction to hair straightener’s, Accountant’s new do was a sight to behold. Unfortunately, he found nothing amusing about the voluminous 3” poker straight Elvis quiff I created. It took five applications of water and lots of tutting to flatten it.

Incidentally, Jules’ new baby isn’t really called ‘Shrek’, it’s really ‘Collette’. Eloise, her big sister (aged 3), came up with a more pronounceable alternative which, personally, I rather like.

P.S. Windowlening furry things is bad, don't do it.