The Glum Housewife

24 Sep
A Marinade for Chicken Tikka

Image via Wikipedia

 

The plasterer has been and gone and all that remains of him is dust. 

Tory Boy has been to London and back and gone on ahead to Lancaster and all that remains of him is a mound of dirty washing and a room full of necessaries. 

The Hub has been to Painsville and back because the anti-inflammatories are now against the law and his chest infection has acquired squatters’ rights.  He was going to drive TB to uni today but he’s too unwell; he will follow with the necessaries when he can.  He will drive only; I will load the car and TB will off-load it.  The Hub also has a banging migraine, compounded by guilt at letting his son down. 

Spud Bud has gone to tea with his best friend because he’s bored with microwaved meals.  As are we all: home-made potato hash warmed up on Wednesday; Chicken Tikka in a box yesterday – tasty but anathema to me: I can’t see a frozen meal without getting a nervous tic.  I might be a lousy chef but at least it’s all home-cooked inedibles.  There’s bound to be some nutrition in there somewhere. 

The electricians left my stove connected but it was a waste of time because I made the mistake of cleaning it before they arrived and I think water leaked in somewhere and now the power trips if I put any of the rings on.  The oven still works but I’m taking bets on how long it will be before I kill that too. 

I don’t have any kitchen units or counters and my washing machine and dishwasher are not plumbed in.  So, a weekend of sitting around doing nothing is in order.  Woopdeyawndo.  On the plus side, my magazine pile is now down as far as May: Chico is predicting England will win the World Cup and the country is anxious that Rooney might do himself an injury before it starts. 

Today’s silver lining, sort of: I have discovered something astonishing – I am not as dirty as I think I am.  I find that I cannot write in a mess and the house is upside down inside out messy at the moment, so I sit at the computer playing games and can’t enjoy even that because it’s not as much fun without the pressure that I should be doing housework or writing.  I haven’t written a poem in days and I miss it. 

Signed, Self Pitying of Stockport 

  

  

  

4 Responses to “The Glum Housewife”

  1. slpmartin September 24, 2010 at 17:55 #

    So sorry you’re spirits are down…I would say there is this beautiful silver lining, but given what I’ve seen of those folks who make repairs…I suspect once they say they’re done….the real headaches begin….have you considered some fine chocolate to lift the spirits. 😉

    Like

    • Tilly Bud September 24, 2010 at 18:18 #

      Thanks for your comfort, dutch comfort though it is 🙂

      Chocolate: the taste that curved a thousand hips…excellent suggestion.

      Like

  2. vivinfrance September 25, 2010 at 09:46 #

    Poor you, poor hub. How is he coping with the house upside down? Aren’t cookers designed to be washed? I do mine all the time and never a blink of dismay.

    If you go to the writer’s island prompt for today, and click on the link to read the poems of Shel Silverstein, you will find a lovely one called “a messy room” which I sent to my grandson!

    Chin up and bon courage.

    Like

    • Tilly Bud September 27, 2010 at 15:06 #

      It’s not so bad for the Hub because he spends a lot of the day on the couch anyway; it’s me who’s going stir crazy.

      As for the cooker: a ring split a while back and I forgot about possible leaks…I’m pretty sure it blew the whole lot.

      Like

I welcome your comments but be warned: I'm menopausal and as likely to snarl as smile. Wine or Maltesers are an acceptable bribe; or a compliment about my youthful looks and cheery disposition will do in a pinch.

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