On Sunday, we were supposed to be here:
But instead, BB threw up six times, made a miraculous recovery, infected his parents, then proceeded to run riot whilst they agonized and vomited.Two days ago, spring had arrived. We hung up scarves and gloves, extracted lighter jackets from the depths of the wardrobe, got a new haircut (me) that cunningly left the neck nice and vulnerable and uncovered.
And then, today, the view from our back door looked like this:
And lastly, well, there's no real anecdote here, but we woke up to discover someone had had fun removing the four hubcaps from what I now affectionately think of as our "doomed car".Testimony to the mental leaps I have made in the past few months: this morning I cycled to work as the first flakes of snow swirled to the ground, caressing my frozen cheeks with their icy softness. When I got to my desk, hung up my helmet and set out my dripping gloves to dry, my colleague leaned over and asked, full of concern:
"Oh dear, you came by bike! But... it's going to snow all day, you know. How on earth are you going to get home?"
I looked at her, smiled the sad little smile of life's stoics and said (truthfully):
"You know, I have no idea. I'll just cross that bridge when I come to it. At the moment, I've got used to just living one half-day at a time. Beyond that, well, I tend not to plan too much."
She laughed, I laughed. And OK, I was exaggerating a little. That is the drama queen in me.
But there really is a grain of truth in what I said. And the funny thing is, this attitude brings a certain bracing gust of freedom to these confusing times.
PS I got over the snow hurdle thanks to a friend, who kindly offered to drive me home. So the moral to this tale of recklessness seems to be: it's fine not to plan... but always make sure you have a few good friends to hand when you are 1/ Phone-less 2/ Transport-less 3/ Plan-less
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