These flurries of activities were spread over six days, two of which were required for travelling to and from my daughter's place, and the other four were occupied by my minding her two children.
I am now safely home, after a trip which seemed incredibly quick, and No, I did not speed. But when I got to the Motor Way there was an HOUR's delay due to a serious accident, and we all inched, or rather centimetred along. I did not expect to find out what had happened, but it featured on the TV news tonight - a truck flipped over, and it took a long time to extricate the driver.
There is never any point getting aggravated by such things, so I practiced some saintly patience while listening to the whole hour's interview by Margaret Throsby with an intrepid journalist. Eventually I got home and put the washing on - having been unable to work how to use my daughter's machine - could not even open the detergent dispenser (Oh, you just pull it out, she told me this morning.)
My kitchen floor has been removed, and thus I am kitchen-less, which has never really happened to me ever before, and it is a weird feeling. The reek of damp is strong, and there is more dust on everything than any rational person would have thought possible. Doubtless my slumber will be beset by a lengthy series of nightmares about cleaning up, finding everything and putting it all away in new places, but there is no need to panic, as such activities are by no means imminent. Fernando rang me while I was twiddling my thumbs and occasionally moving forward a few metres, to say he had gone off with a rather sore back, but that the floor can now be laid. That will probably take a couple of days and then it will all have to be sanded and sealed. Njal's Saga has nothing on this, let me tell you.
Overall the children were pretty good, and I managed, with my son's help and my daughter's instructions and encouragement to do the insulin injections for my grandson. Not without fear and trepidation, but we all survived the experience, and his sugars were quite stable over the four days.
When my daughter and I arrived at the school and took my granddaughter into her classroom, her teacher looked at me and said 'I know your face! We sang together years ago'. I recognised her face too: she was in her teens then, and came from a very musical family, and we were in the chorus for a Handel opera all those years ago. We had to learn by heart and sing eight long choruses (with lengthy fugues), while moving around the stage with face masks on (and without spectacles). After those performances, with real-life opera singers, I decided that I could do anything (not quite true as it turned out, but certainly an experience which stiffened my spine, and led me on to many other things). I was delighted to see her again - now a mother herself and a splendid primary school teacher. Isn't life amazing at times!
And I had a wonderful blogmeet. I enjoyed it so much. I knew I would, despite feeling rather nervous, as this blogger voice and her images repeatedly resonated with me. We made our arrangements, and I confidently turned up, but could not find her. Eventually I telephoned, and found I had stuffed up well and truly. We agreed on this location, and my mind repeated it, but I actually went to a completely different location. Fortunately I managed to make contact with her home, and then realised my error, and she was told, and waited for me. Mea culpa, well and truly. We had such a good time talking. And I look forward to the next meeting.