The weekend is over

I delivered Freddie to school this morning and it dawned on me that the weekend is over. Welcome to Monday.

We had another good day yesterday, with church in the morning and then not long after mid-day, the Kenilworth Newbies arriving back from their weekend camping trip, to spend the afternoon together. I planned a roast dinner about three in the afternoon but, on hearing that they had all recently eaten, I postponed it until 4 o’clock. Ha! Should have kept it at three. I didn’t serve up until gone 4.30, such is my ability to plan these days. I had forgotten to put the veg on……

We had a really lovely day though. I love it when the house is full of excitable children. Regrettably, we ended up coming indoors because of a thunderstorm, so the high energy levels and high-pitched voices, instead of dissipating into the distance, reverberated from all four walls. They are always so thrilled to see each other.

As the Kenilworth Newbies left to bath the boys and put them to bed, Freddie and I, too, got ready to go over to Kenilworth. I thought that the night before school would be better spent in Freddie’s own, familiar surroundings.

It turned out well, and Freddie settled to sleep really quickly, got up early this morning and was all smiles as we set off for school. I think I can safely say that the weekend was a success.

I was grateful for all the love, attention and activity that John and Andrew had offered Freddie, too. It was smashing to see him grinning from ear to ear as he had fun with Uncle Andrew and look lovingly up at Grandpa as he settled into the crook of Grandpa’s arm on the sofa.

John and I did a spot of tidying up this morning once I was home and then, at lunchtime, we abandoned all efforts as we were both tired. In fact, John was too tired to go to his exercise class today and had a well-earned nap on the sofa instead. We thought we’d ‘go’ to the cricket, so switched on the TV and watched it all afternoon. Nice.

Andrew is starting his new job tomorrow, so he set off just before 4 o’clock. House seems quiet now….. still, time for a bit of recuperation maybe.

While I was sitting with nothing much to do, I decided I’d chase up my hospital appointment for my gippy tummy. “No, we don’t have a referral for you here,” declared the girl on the other end of the phone.

I patiently explained that I’d been waiting four weeks for an urgent ‘two-week referral’ and, not having heard anything, had chased it up via the GP last week. I had been reassured that the referral had been sent. “No, I can’t find anything here for you. Let me look in a different database…. Oh…. yes, here it is. But they’ve used the wrong form. I’ve emailed them twice to get them to do the right proforma, but I haven’t heard anything.”

Well, I decided I wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer and gently asked her to double check that nothing had been returned because, when I phoned the surgery on Friday, they told me it had gone across. “Ah….hmm…. oh…. yes, yes, here it is. They have done the right form now. Ok, I’ll expedite it….” Well, thank you. But, do you know what? Anxiety is not good for a gippy tummy.

Take care everyone. God bless.