Where Wednesday went!

This morning I got up slightly earlier than usual. Compared with the days when I used to get up and drive across most of Greater Manchester - well, round it on the M60 - it was still rather late but still slightly earlier than my current usual. And I was strong and self-disciplined and only snoozed the alarm once before making myself get out of bed. My daughter was coming to collect something on her way to work. As she drops the small people at before-school clubs at around 7.30, she could well be here before 8.00 and I didn’t want her insistently ringing the doorbell and waking up her father.

She was coming to collect a bag of washing. In the course of their lengthy house-moving Granddaughter Number One and Friend seemed to have done very little washing. Goodness knows why not! Anyway, as my daughter helped them put items in their selected rooms she came across several bags full of clothing and on asking where it was to go received the reply, “That’s dirty washing!” Wanting to reduce the stress of the house-moving, she offered to take it away and deal with it, volunteering me to take half of it. 

And so, over the weekend both our huuses became laundries. Quite a lot went home with Granddaughter Number One when ahe came to dinner on Sunday but one load was still drying and so  remained her a little longer. My daughter’s school is fairly close to the new house and so she planned to call in after work today. 

Both of us wondered what Granddaughter Number One and Friend had been wearing over the last week or so as there were many socks and knickers in the piles of laundry. Both of us took the executive decision to throw away any such items that were truly beyond repair, such as socks with such huge holes in the toes that they deserved a new name, such as “ankle warmers”. On hearing this on Sunday, Granddaughter Number One protested bitterly, saying that Friend would realise which socks were missing and would probably weep. Too bad! We were hard-hearted! She can count this as part of the stuff-that-goes-missing-when-you-move-house. 

Of course, there is also stuff-that-went-missing ages-ago-and-turns-up-unexpectedly-when-you-move-house, such as the saucepan I lent her years ago, and its lid, which she swore blind she did not have but eventually found at the back of the vegetable cupboard! Oh, and some adventure storybooks suitable for her 7-year-old sister!

So having got up a little earlier than is my wont, I thought I might make my visit to the market more speedily than usual. But no, I remembered that I needed to phone my Spanish sister. Late yesterday evening Phil and I discussed possible destinations to fly to as we have 2 flights with EasyJet waiting to be used before they expire. These date back to flights booked to Sicily which were cancelled in that nobody-can-travel-anywhere-because of Covid period. We decided we might like to go to Andalucía and visit the Spanish branch of the family. However, with the time difference, it was a little late to call my sister to consult her about dates. 

So this morning I called her, as she was having breakfast in a cafe after having taken her grandchildren to school. Apart from February, when she plans to visit Asturias, where she has never been. It is, after all, a long way from Cadiz but should suit her well as she enjoys drinking cider and Asturias is a cider-producing region! 

All of this inevitably prevented me from making an early start to the market. Add to this the fact that I rode beyond Uppermill and called in a Tesco in Greenfield, to buy Boddington’s beer, unavailable in Delph or Uppermill.

And so, after a scuttle round the markets and small shops of Uppermill, I finally returned home. This is how mornings slip away!

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!