Regrets

Fussing a little about how they will cope while I'm away, ready to make creme brulee with an inconvenient pint of heavy cream which has been unemployed so far, and I brought in the outside cushions which had happily been outside for months in our reliable summer. It pains me to think of disorder in my absence although logically if they don't mind, why should I? I have made domesticity too much my responsibility, I was always wistfully envious of more disciplined mothers who insisted on a high level of involvement from all members of the household. Too late now.

This morning: primer, creme brulee and packing. In that order.

I have a big bump on the top of my head and not a clue how it got there.