Category: middle aged menopausal musings

Sitting down with the dregs of my wine after a most successful evening’s hosting. Due to ‘im outdoors’ recent honorary post, we have just entertained a party of 14 Air Force chaps including a Lord.

Food was well received and all had a jolly good time.

We aced it on the quantities – not too food much left over but due to a number of designated drivers, lots of remaining wine (hurrah!).

Just chortling to myself that nobody had any idea about a small “incident” that I deftly dealt with.

As they were all tucking into pudding, I took the opportunity to nip out and shut up the hens. This involves contorting my head and arm through the hatch and peering into the henhouse with my phone torch to count them, ensuring none are still outside scratching about.

I returned to the table with my portion of pud and was happily eating and chatting when I felt something damp on the sleeve of my silk blouse. I felt it with my fingers and found they were covered in black goo. On further inspection, I was sporting a healthy dollop of fresh hen poo on the cuff of my sleeve.

Cue, discreet trip to the loo to remove said contamination and a swift return to my seat without missing a beat in the conversation.

I’m a pro.

🙄

Sleepily watering the tomatoes in the greenhouse this morning when the water flow from the watering can mysteriously stopped. Looked inside the can, still full. Shook it, no water coming out. Took off the flower at the end of the spout and peered inside. Something blocking it. Fished inside to feel something squidgy and yielding. Shook it a bit further down the spout and then slowly withdrew a perfectly cylindrical and exceptionally waterlogged, dead mouse.

Lovely.

Must remember tonight at Tai Chi that the instructor is not taking the piss when no matter how pleased I am that I have got the form right, he will always look a little disappointed and move my hand/foot/leg/arm a millimetre to the left/right/up/down. Do not laugh/tut/roll eyes/punch him.

Aga cooking.
Advantage – no internal permeation of cooking smells.

Disadvantage – no internal permeation of cooking smells to remind you there’s something in there.

Really must refrain from watching multiple back to back episodes of Master(shout)chef in an attempt to wind down before bed after an evening reporting session. It leads to anxiety inducing dreams about attempting to create a gourmet “PLATE OF FOOD” from manky fridge leftovers because I have forgotten my ingredients, whilst disconcertingly naked under my pinny and being harangued by a pair of gobby, middle aged, paunchy men.

Imagined Saturday morning:

Wake refreshed, make cup of tea, do yoga, meditate, feel mellow enough to face the day’s jobs with tranquility.

Real morning :

Wake in a hot sweat due to failure to turn down heating in bedroom combined with menopausal bollocks.

Go downstairs in yoga gear to make tea to be faced with huge piles of washing all over kitchen/laundry room which need folding/taking out of machine/putting in dryer/sorting. See dishwasher needs emptying but surfaces need clearing and stuff put in cupboards first. Do all that then let dogs out in garden and poo pick lawn, let out and feed hens, collect eggs, answer texts from still absent husband about small jobs required, strip and change bed, find bleached stain on wooden drawing room floor so apply wood treatment, get distracted by Facebook and emails, drink tea.

Have been up for two hours now.

Does simply wearing my yoga gear count?

My return home from work this evening.

On call. Empty house. Al and girls all out/away. Dogs in run having been walked. House sparkling clean due to Kim the magic cleaning fairy.

Put hens to bed and collect eggs.

Walk in.

Inhale clean smells.

Feed dogs

Inhale hen poo smell.

Check shoes.

Bugger.

Spaniel barfs on sparkling kitchen floor.

Go to get gloves from under sink to find they have been nibbled, together with all the plastic bags to make a mouse nest in some obscure under floor location.

Clean up mouse poo, hen poo, shredded plastic and dog barf without bothering to take off my jacket.

Feel something damp and sticky in my jacket pocket.

Bugger.

Forgot the eggs, now scrambled in my pocket and dripping down my work skirt.

I repeat. On call. No. Gin. Allowed.

Bugger.

Hens are habitual creatures and all have their own sleeping spot. Yesterday I did the three monthly hen house clean out which comprises removing all the perches, nesting boxes and crates, digging over and raking the floor and re-siting all the above paraphernalia to allow equal wear and tear. I do enjoy (I live an exciting and fascinating life, you understand) standing near the hen house at dusk after one of these clean outs. As the girls return to bed you can hear subtle squawking, chattering, shuffling and feather ruffling as they appraise the new layout and work out where they should sleep. “Oooo, Gladys. Someone moved the sofa!”

I have spent three days attempting to pin down the initially vague, but increasingly arresting smell of putrefaction wafting about upstairs in the cloakroom/study area. I initially accused himself of blocking the plumbing, as only men can, but nothing seemed to be amiss on inspection. Then it was sorting through the pile of charity shop bound clothes to ensure I hadn’t left an unwashed pair of minging socks in there. Finally, today, I lay down on the floor to inspect under every piece of furniture and it became clear I was getting warmer by the increasing pungency of the odour.
And there, in a trap so cunningly concealed that I don’t ever remember setting it (and I haven’t set any for over a year) was the culprit. Or the remains of the once mouse-like but now bloated, and crawling culprit.
God knows how long it has been there!
Boak.

Me: “X is broken, has fallen off, isn’t working”
Him: “YOU’VE broken it. You’ve got to be more careful! Did you force it? You must have been doing it wrong/badly”

Him: “X is broken, has fallen off, isn’t working. It’s a piece of crap and badly made. What did YOU do to it when you last used it?”
Me: “😡😡😡😡😡😡 Lets just fix it, shall we?😡😡😡“