19 August 2008

Home Alone…….Again

A few weeks ago the family decamped to Spain. I did not go because; (a) I’d had a wonderful holiday in Florida and New York only a month before and (b) I quite fancied staying at home and getting some peace and quiet. The kids were only home a few weeks after returning from Spain when they went off to Southern Ireland with their father for a month. Sorry – that does not mean he’s only been their father for a month – it means….aw you’ll work it out. Anyway, there they’ve stayed for the last 2 weeks giving J and I a wonderfully quiet and relaxing time and the chance to visit our friends in Normandy last week.

On our last day in Normandy I got a call from Clive, the kids’ father. He needed to speak to J urgently and of course we thought something had happened to Guy or Kitty but it was an accident to his wife, Teresa, which prompted the call. Teresa, a keen horse rider by all accounts had had a fall and had badly broken her ankle and wrist and needed operations. With all the running about that Clive needed to do it was therefore decided to cut short the kids’ holiday, but how to get them back to France ? Julie needed no further encouragement. She spent about 8 hours on the internet yesterday getting flights and hotels arranged and the result is that she left this morning to go and pick them up and so I’m home alone again….but only for a day or two.

I love being home alone. Take today for instance. Read the papers on the internet. Do some e-mails. Have a laddish lunch of ravioli on toast with a glass of wine and a cigarette for pudding. Stick the telly on and watch some Olympics but then notice that MTV have got Girls Aloud on for 1 hour – great ! The biggest load of crumpet in one place since I was last in a Greggs Bakery. I’ll maybe play some golf on the Wii and if I can rustle up the energy I’ll empty the dishwasher. I’ll talk to Shadow and check my wine stock. I wont shower or shave and I’ll wear the same boxers I had on yesterday. I’ll have burgers for dinner and generally slob about. Bliss.

I could quite easily be a hermit. It wouldn’t bother me to have smelly armpits and a greasy pony tail. I even did without TV for the whole of last week so it can be done. My car lies in the drive for weeks without moving and I don’t use the pool that often. I had training years ago on eating off the land so could quite easily rustle up a toadstool omelette with eggs stolen from the house up the hill. The occasional rustled lamb would not be a problem although I’m not sure if I could do anything nasty to it in order to satisfy my appetite….and I mean food appetite ! Water from the mountain streams tastes as good as wine (as long as there’s nobody upstream) and….you don’t get a hangover. There are no unannounced visitors and no carpets to vacuum. There would be no recycling to do and no bills to worry about. And no phone calls in the middle of the big match.

However…….I would miss cuddles in bed. I’d miss my neighbours Tan and Angie and their coterie of friends as well as little Violet. I’d miss the microwave and my Calvin Klein Eternity after shave. I’d miss toilet paper and switching out the bedside light and just falling asleep on my Ikea super-hard pillows. I’d miss my arguments with Guy and my cuddles on the sofa with Kitty. I’d miss my X-box and the aliens I blast to smithereens. I’d miss my garden and my chainsaw. I’d definitely miss my scooter.

So on second thoughts whilst I could be a hermit, it’d probably only last until I ran out of Marlboro Lights.

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