Monday 18 July 2021
“Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard, To fetch her poor dog a bone. But when she got there the cupboard was bare, And so the poor dog had none.”
Well, I may not have a dog but, when you’re down to a jar of piccalilli, a few tired old carrots and half a cucumber, it’s time to admit that, unless you want your household to starve, you just cannot put off the supermarket shop any longer!
Gosh it has been a busy few weeks!
Look, I always love ‘busy‘ and this particular brand-of -frantic starts brilliantly, because most of it offers ‘freedom from routine’ for me, which is always a treat. Some great playing, in big concerts and smaller groups. Several great nights out. Even a stay-away for work.
As an added bonus it is all wrapped up in a bow of lovely weather! Our northern lands, bathed (until today’s Saharan blast) in pleasant sunshine, providing the perfect setting for social drinks, afternoon strolls and basking away the occasional hangover!
Bliss and, to quote Gingerbread, the national single parent charity, just the tonic for the well-being of any busy parent,
“Looking after the needs of your family can take all of your time and energy. Try to get some time to yourself every now and again to recharge your batteries. All busy parents need some adult time away from children, housework and chores“
Is it just me, or possibly a parental pitfall, but does there always come a tipping point when ‘busy’ turns into ‘just too busy’. The scales threaten to tip for me this weekend. A crammed calendar of activity on top of a full time job (and a new side-line job) plus offspring needing help with flat hunts, catching holiday flights and having concerts and parties of their own does finally frazzle my mind to the point where I simply need to stop and sit in a darkened room for a few hours!
But, in the end, as usual it is the daily grind of running a household which breaks me…
Yes, those bare cupboards. Not, I must confess the household chores! Unbelievably I have forgotten what they are. With one, sometimes two, university offspring in holiday-time residence for most of the last month, I’ve been very spoiled. They bob in and out of the house, but even so have manged most of the: cooking, cleaning and even ironing, throughout June and July. And, used to surviving on a students grant, those girls are resourceful; eking a meal out of the most paltry of ingredients. But they are not magicians and, as I open the fridge today, I have to concede that enough is enough, we need food!
I mean piccalilli … picc-a-friggin’- lill! Surely a new (nutritional) low point !
So, as I am the only car driver, shattered or not, it is time for me to haul my weary limbs off the sofa and down to those shops! Wonder how the tale ended for Old Mother Hubbard ….