- I waited 2 full hours for a smear test on Friday, during which time I am fairly sure I went through the menopause. Maybe twice. The atmosphere in the waiting room full of pregnant and peri-menopausal women was febrile with hormonal rage. At one point the gynecologist's brother wandered in and tried to engage us all in cheery banter. He was seconds away from getting shanked by a number of women with very full bladders. Two hours and €70 to be manipulated like a cow in a James Herriot book! Delightful. Hello and welcome to my aspirational lifestyle blog.
- Owed significant amounts of money which I must chase down, wearily, then hand in its entirety over to the Social Security people who continue to plot my economic (possibly total) downfall.
- Things the chickens have destroyed: EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD. Giant, scratchy yellow feet uprooting everything that once grew (admittedly mainly dandelions and uncontrollable, insane sage plants). I have one tulip left and if they fuck it up, we are going to fall out, big time.
- My pudding is 10 days out of date. I am basically playing Bonne Maman roulette.
- Terrible skin. March is always my month of terrible skin. Which is nice, because March is usually also horrible in many other ways. Who needs to leave the house anyway?
- No one is going to demand to weigh me for another 18 months (I NEVER EVER EVER weigh myself, because, who needs to know that shit, but the gynecologist insists).
- Chickens laid another egg (as they should, if they wish to continue scratching my flowers up. I like them really, destructive bastards).
- I went to a sourdough class on Sunday and made an actual bread! There was colomba (Easter Pannetone-alike) and two kinds of croissants and tiny glasses of artisanal hooch and we got to play with weird alien sourdough and it was excellent. My resultant bread both looks and tastes like bread, which is a first for me. BEHOLD THE BREAD:
Hideous late night light, as bread emerges from oven.
Morning bread, which I am forcing everyone to eat whether they like it or not. "But I want cereal" "WELL YOU CAN'T"
I know lots of people know how to do this, but I am not one of them and any time I have tried, the results look like a dreaded skin disease grown in a laboratory, so yay for bread. I forgot to bring my starter home with me, which, given my nurturing limitations, may be a good thing. I have way too many live things to tend in this house already, adding a capricious, demanding, flour and water tamagotchi into the equation would have probably been unwise.
(Belgians, you should try one of these classes though, they are great - she's doing one on May 4th, check here)
- My younger child is relating the Minuscule film to me in minute, careful detail, in English, over several hours and it is strangely charming. "Then the black ants knocked on the ladybird with their antennae like they were making it a knight and it made a sound like a, what it is? The thing you hit? With a stick? Ah, yes, a xylophone", etc etc etc.
- Adorable baby fox is adorable.
30% itchy eye rage
30% white knuckle financial juggling
10% Facegoop plotting
10% Half watching the highly distracting midwifery programme, One Born Every Minute. I have many questions. Is the baby breech? Did you really just ask if that is a vulva or a face? How can you confuse the two? It is a face! All is well!
10% forgot to wash 'hair'
10% Terre d'Hermès Eau Très Fraîche (very nice).