I think I’ve uncovered the reason why I don’t get to my blogging these days. It’s that damn fancy phone I got. Texting is just so easy. I used to hate it, trying to send a message , managing that awful combo of the tiny buttons and my fat fingers, but now the little typewriter style keyboard and the predictive text ( if that’s what it’s called) makes it so easy. ( also makes some interesting predictions), that I’m sending messages at the drop of a hat, so before I even get near the blog I’ve already discussed half my day with a friend.
That said, there really isn’t much going on as usual.
Suddenly out of nowhere, my cooking mojo came back and now I can’t stop cooking. I’m like the sorcerer’s apprentice,kids are over the moon of course, their usual complaint is that there is never anything to eat in the house and now I feel I could feed the world.
I think it’s the change in weather and all the winter veggies coming into the shops, I get so bored of summer food, both making and eating it, but now we can have hale and hearty soups, nabe, stews, steamed bread, yum. Pass me the lentils. I’ll run with it while it lasts, damn mojo is a fickle lover, no idea how long he’ll hang around.
And on to my off-spring. Young Kev has been a nightmare all week. Don’t know what it is, he’ll be fine for a while and I start thinking he’s growing up a bit, we’re shaking off that awful 10 year obtuse, angry phase, and then it’s back. He’s made a career out of being pissed off by everything, mostly me and my many crimes and misdemeanors. I say roll on the mono-syllabic days of puberty. The wordless grunting phase, sounds idyllic from where I sit.
Then on the other hand we have Jim. He left for school the other morning singing,
‘ sing if you’re glad to be gay, sing if you’re happy that way, HEY!’,
I asked him where he’d heard that song because I know I haven’t played it in decades, and he said, ‘ it was on the radio’ and left for school, leaving the front door wide open behind him. I spent the day pondering, ‘what radio? we don’t have a radio.’
Maybe he’s just channelling Tom Robinson.
Also thinking that I might have five good minutes left on my biological clock because babies and talk of babies is tugging at me these days, keep thinking, maybe just one more, have to remind myself that babies are not twiglets. Must be strong. This too shall pass.
My good friend, who is about 15 years younger than me is due any minute now, so I shall be super helpful to her, that’ll cure me.