Nail-biting stuff

I have to remind myself that this has been Sunday, for it couldn’t have been more unlike my usual routine. The extra hour meant I felt I’d had enough sleep, which was good; the girls were up even later (Anna after midday!) but I reckon that was good too - they needed it.

I spent over an hour with Catriona on the conclusion to an essay she’s been working on for English - I’m happy to see how fluently she writes - and then had to pay a return visit to the dreaded Asda to meet the demands of the packed lunches tomorrow. By the time we’d had lunch, I was feeling frayed again, but we took ourselves off to … a football match. Our older grandson was playing for Spartans on the astroturf pitch, viable for play despite the torrential rain of the morning. We met up with his dad at the clubhouse, where we watched the match from the balcony (inestimable advantages of warmth, coffee and loos just behind us) and travelled in 90 minutes from doubt through despair to yelling encouragement and a penalty shootout to a win…

Then back in the almost-dark to tidy laundry (they were all just back from holiday when we arrived) and cooking dinner with rather less stress than last night as I learn how to deal with a gas hob. And now the girls are off upstairs, preparing for school in the morning, and I’m on the sofa with my feet up.

Photo is of the pitch as the early dusk fell and the floodlights made the ball easier to see through the driving drizzle..