Sunday mornings are all mine. I usually get up out of bed bright (kind of) and early and I know that the morning is my own. I won’t see another human being before 9.30am!
It’s hard to know how to fill the morning but I usually manage without the aid of any television or radio. I realise now that I am more than enough amusement for myself. Me and my thoughts can keep me occupied for hours.
I start the day with a coffee, usually in the conservatory but at the moment it’s so dark that early I usually see nothing more than my own reflection. Everything that happens between that coffee and the next hour is all to help me build up for the ironing. I have to prepare in stages, get the ironing board, check my e-mails, get the iron out, go wash up, get the clothes basket and put the kettle on. You get the idea? I gently build up to it… so it’s not such a shock to my system.
I noticed how many pyjamas I have and I tried to find a reason as to why I iron them. The only thing I could come up with was that I think they look pretty when they are all flat in line with the seams!
I didn’t mind ironing so much when the kids where tiny…. I could fly through the basket in no time! Now it’s all designer this and designer that. That material that is supposed to have the creased look can give me repetitive strain injury trying to get the creases out.
I was in the middle of ironing a T-shirt belonging to Andrea that used to say, ‘Music Makes the World go Round! I couldn’t help but notice that it now said, ‘usic akes he or d g ound’ I wasn’t sure how that happened. I moved my head to one side and re-read the slogan just in case it made sense when my head was tilted. No joy. Having put my head in the washing machine drum just to check if the letters were still in there I decided to worry no more. No doubt the letters would turn up later with some socks…
I only iron the necessities, no more… There is really no point in my stressing myself out unduly…
I was almost ready for another coffee after the ironing so I was heading towards the conservatory again, then I noticed there were lots of birds in the garden. On further inspection I also noticed that all the feeders were empty. It’s strange thing guilt. I knew that there was no way I could go and sit and watch them eat nothing without feeling responsible. I decided coffee could wait and so I’d start preparing the dinner instead. I quite like making Sunday dinners; it’s about the only cooking I can do with confidence. There are no complications in boiling a few vegetables up and roasting a nice joint of meat! I had some lovely Rooster potatoes to peel and a few carrots. No matter how hard I try I always manage to peel my nails. The other thing I notice is how few peelings there is in sink after you peel what seems like a load of vegetables and yet the peelings don’t seem to look very much at all! Strange.
Once the vegetables and the meat were sorted, I washed my ‘shrooms and I thought I’d get a bit technical and I’d have a go at preparing the stock. I know I’m making it sound difficult when really it’s just a couple of cubes from the box in the cupboard! I boiled the kettle and started to take the wrapper off the stock cube. I was very taken by how much the cube looked like a toffee.
‘mmmmmm, toffee’ I thought. ‘Don’t be stupid!’ said my common sense part of the brain. ‘mmmmm toffee’ I thought. ‘look!’ said the common sense part again, ‘You have just seen the box you took it from, it says quite clearly that they are stock cubes!’
The urge to put this stock cube that looked like a toffee in my mouth was overwhelming! The battle raged….
As I wandered over to the sink to spit out the stock cube I couldn’t help but notice some orange peeling hanging from the tap. There was also more peeling on the window frame and the handle and as I looked up I was quite amazed to see a couple of pieces hanging from the light fitting on the ceiling! So that’s were the peelings went to!
Once the peelings were gathered I was just about done. I still had a few things to do and as I walked into the back room I noticed a cushion that wasn’t from the set on that sofa. I picked it up and took into the sitting room where there were other cushions of its kind. The problem was that I have two, two-seater sofas and one chair in that room. I also already have 5 cushions. Trying to find somewhere to fit this 6th ‘spare’ cushion in was causing me a problem. After an hour of rearranging the sofas, chairs and pillows I quickly and quietly threw it back on the sofa in the other room and closed the door behind me. Say no more!
See? I don’t need people to keep me entertained! I have me!
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