Yesterday was such a horrible day.
Even as I am writing that, I find myself back-tracking massively because I know very well,
don’t I, that there are a great many people (including some well-known to me) who are having one horrible day after another. And when they say horrible, they mean really, truly horrible.
So perhaps I should reframe my opening sentence and simply say that yesterday was one of those days when nothing seemed to go right. It all started with the dishwasher declaring war on me once again. Regular readers will know
that this is not the first time; my dishwasher appears to hold a grudge against me. Yesterday morning the first I knew of the situation was when I tried to turn the machine on and it started gurgling at me and making swishing noises. I did what I always do
in such circumstances and turned it off and on again (you can tell I’m not exactly challenging domestic appliance engineers on the job front) but no joy. The dishwasher had, of course, waited until it was completely full of dirty crockery before making
its warlike declaration. There was nothing for it but to slowly remove every plate, knife, bowl, saucepan and casserole dish and wash them all by hand. It took me ages and I was in a very bad mood by the time I’d rinsed the last mug.
At least I had time on my hands - but not in a good way. I was waiting in for a visit from the District Nurse and couldn’t go out, even to the local shops, until she came. I
tried, I really tried, to fill the minutes with worthwhile activity but as the hours wore on I started to worry about the birthday card I needed to post if it was to get to its recipient on time, ditto the Rather Large Parcel which had taken me simply ages
to wrap, and the fact that I still needed to shop for our dinner while outside it was getting darker, windier and wetter by the minute.
Finally my calls to the
health centre were answered; the nurse would not be coming now until Thursday. I grabbed my coat, my bag, the birthday card and the Rather Large Parcel and drove to the Post Office where I was too late to catch the post. What’s more, the sweet lass behind
the counter advised me that the Rather Large Parcel was so large that it would have to go via ParcelForce which would cost me an arm and a leg. No, she didn’t use those exact words, bless her, and she did suggest that I might like to divide up the contents
of RLP into two Not So Large Parcels which would more than halve the cost.
I drove, miserably to the supermarket and then back home again, battling against
the traffic, the rain, the dark and my own bad temper.
The Youngest of the Darling Daughters, when I messaged her to have a bit of a moan, was sympathetic
but asked what plans I had for the following day. “Well, that sounds like a good day to me,” she responded stoutly when I told her, adding for good measure that tomorrow was (as always) “another day...”
Do you know, it really was? I spent a happy hour this morning having coffee with a friend who had baked the most delicious shortbread especially for me. I had two which is only what you would expect
of one who is Always Thinking About Her Stomach. On my way to her house, I posted the birthday card, adding an extra second class stamp to the one already affixed to the envelope so that, hopefully, it will arrive on time after all. Back home, the really rather
wonderful Kay, who helps me keep my house in order, said not to call the dishwasher engineer before she had given its inners a super clean which might (she said) make all the difference. I was doubtful, to be honest, but she was right - all the dishwasher
wanted was some Tender Loving Care. She even took the clippers to Mr B’s hair which put him in a good mood - and when Mr B’s in a good mood, why then I’m in a good mood too. As far as I am concerned Kay is now Mrs Fix It.
I divided the Rather Large Parcel into two smaller packages and, taking a slight detour on my way to my craft afternoon, returned to the Post Office where the same assistant remembered
me from yesterday and sounded as pleased as punch to be able to tell me that each parcel would now cost me just £3. What a result! Followed by a lovely afternoon with friends, old and new, making Christmas candles.
What a difference a day makes! Everything that went wrong yesterday has turned out okay today.
Beatles would undoubtedly sing, I got by with a little (okay, make that a lot of) help from my friends....