and relax ….

Breakfast is an unusually noisy affair this morning - clatter clatter, chatter chatter.  Dan and Kelly were at a house party in Norfolk this weekend with 24 other people.  So they’re a little …. slower than usual.

Anniemay, on the other hand, is in SuperMum mode - she makes their packed lunches and gathers their things together as if it's the first day of term.  At the same time she’s clearing out the fridge and washing the shelves.  I search for evidence of whatever she’s on that gives her so much bounce this morning, but find nothing.

She announces she’s biking to the gym in a few moments time, so I put my breakfast to one side and pump her tyres up.  She’s sorting out yet more piles of washing.  Perhaps she’s already there in  her head.

Then she ushers D&K out of the door, double-checking they haven’t forgotten anything before I usher her out of the door, double-checking she hasn’t forgotten anything.

She jumps on the bike and looks for her iPod; “I need my music.”  Stop. “I don’t need my music”. Start ….. then stop again. “I do need my music”.
 
The door finally closes, but not before silence edges its way in.  

I finish my coffee and make a shopping list; two in fact.  Being a family of fussytarians I find it impossible to get all the shopping in one place.

There’s a new supermarket in MK that never seems too busy and I wander round the fruit and veg section, which is laid out as a pretend market-place.  The illusion works quite well and for a few moments I imagine myself somewhere warmer and sunnier as I handle the aubergines and peppers.  It also has a decent bakery and I complete the holiday feel with a croissant.

Back home I’m about to settle down with my coffee and the paper when I see her standing in the drive untangling her iPod and checking her stats on Map-My-Ride.  

She seems an age and when I finally go to investigate, I find her on the garage floor wrestling with D&K’s tent, which has spent the past week drying out.  Massive tent versus tiny bag.  She’s actually panting.  It’s really a two person job - so she stuffs it in while I work the zips.

Whatever she’s on clearly hasn’t worn off, because she then goes off to fiddle with the washing line.  She hasn’t actually made it into the house yet. I go for a lie down; it’s all too much for me.