Boxing Day

Yesterday was a blur. Woke up at 11.30, made it to the settee to watch Christmas TV and to the kitchen at 2 pm to prepare a turkey and put it in the oven. It, along with the rest of the meal, was ready by 6.30 and although there were only 2 of us I made an effort to dress for dinner. After exchange of presents, a large meal and virtually a bottle of champagne on my own I returned to the settee. Pretty much it for Christmas day. Not sure how much of my late getting up today was due to sheer fatigue and how much to the champagne but I didn’t make it out of bed till 1.30 pm today. Managed a walk in the Liecestershire countryside in the bright but cold sunshine, then back to the settee. Managed a visit to Andrew’s parents this evening for a couple of hours then, you guessed it – back to the settee. I can’t remember the last time I watched so much TV but I’ve tried to rest my mind from project management during my waking hours these two days because during my sleeping hours I’m back there – all night long it feels like. I’ve given Andrew a holiday as a present to be taken when the house is complete. We’ll both need it.

And what of the house? Well it’s not complete. We have one more bedroom to paint and lot more painting in the hallways. On the plus side we’ve now got all the furniture for all the rooms – beds arrived on Christmas eve. As they are all flat packed we’ll spend tomorrow putting them together. We should have at least one room complete tomorrow – hopefully in time for when my son arrives.

History seem to be repeating itself in the yard. The new people have proved not much better than the old ones – needed pushing to complete the work in their stated time, rushed it, very poor finish, and a demand for their money. I’ve refused until we are satisfied – he became abusive, called me difficult and hung up in the middle of our discussion when it became clear I would not pay him any money until we were absolutely satisfied with the work. But for two days I’ve been able to leave it all behind. Tomorrow will be time enough to pick it up again.

About predencia

Author of novels Dare to Love and Betrayed poetry anthology Raw and blogger
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