My Daily Sigh, My Life

My Daily Sigh- Carisbrooke, the Clean Room & Back To School

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My Daily Sigh.

Morning, we’ve unpacked.  My miniature plane plastic alcohol bottles have been removed from my handbag. Most useful.
As we got our bags from the overhead lockers, I had the bottles in hand to put in my bag. BM enquired why I needed them. “For school” I replied. The looks of the passengers below was a picture. “I’m a teacher” I said, as though that explained it. “Yes, she takes a swig from them at work.” Says BM. I lifted down my bag and he said ”She’s got her drugs in there.” I could only roll my eyes.

BM has repacked and is back on his travels. I’m stressed just watching him. It’s a whirlwind of panic and last minuteness, him not finding things, me following round and finding them in the places he’s just looked.

I can now breathe a sigh of relief as he’s gone. I’ve tidied his trail of mess but could do with a swig from one of those bottles…Happy Sunday.

Afternoon, post holiday dieting and exercise begun on Saturday. On Sunday it paused. Son said Sunday roasts were a must and he would cook. He created a delicious dessert he said I must try. It had a days worth of calories in one bowl. How could I say no?
Back on track on Bank Holiday Monday and I’m getting ready for Autumn.

My waistline might be as swollen as ripe blackberries, my face might be the colour of red berries and my body might be horizontal like a fallen leaf, but I’m rather pleased with myself. I’ve just completed walk two. Small steps.

Afternoon. Why do the men in my household wait until their washing baskets are overflowing before contemplating using the machine that cleans them?
I stupidly asked if son had any washing as I didn’t have a full wash. His overflowing basket was delivered to me. As I removed the clothes I noticed that half of them were creased, folded and looked remarkably clean.
Yep, that’s what happens when you ask for a holiday suitcase that’s been on the floor for 48 hours to be unpacked.  He might have opted for the easy, playing for time option, but eventually, the job of putting away still needs to be done. . .luckily for him he’s doing my garden, so I’ll let him off.

Afternoon, all good things come to an end. Today, I went to work.
Husband phoned from the Netherlands. I could hardly comprehend what he was saying, he was laughing so much.
He had just entered a CLEAN room, a room 10,000 times cleaner than a hospital operating room. It apparently takes amazing technology to keep it that clean. Unfortunately, it took BM seconds to undo it.
He was zipped into his protective bunny suit, bent down to pull up his bootie and the garment ripped open, contaminating the room and stunning the employees! He was mortified, the bunny suit zip was broken but photos were taken!  It has never happened before.

Evening, a lovely trip to the Isle of Wight and a visit to Carisbrooke Castle and the wheel walking donkeys.
Having heard about their improved work conditions and contracts, I’m seeing benefits of being a donkey. They walk for only 2 mins at any one time, get rewarded with food and have a 6 min daily work contract. I, on the other hand have to reach 10,000 steps a day, try not to eat afterwards and spend over 600 mins a day working.
Which would I rather do? It’s not difficult to decide.

Morning, menopausal sleeping issues mean I have woken up not feeling refreshed and alert. I’m struggling with peeky blinders. Yep, I’m not up against a gangster mob, but opening my eyes, peeking out, and being blinded by the light is a problem.
I’m already on the Magnesium and Sage (how wise) have a fan, (and it’s not BM) tried gel cool pillows, which in the middle of the night are flaming hot, and am about to order Cherry juice, as apparently it helps joints and sleep, both of which I need help with. Fingers crossed.
Any other suggestions that I can waste my money on buying, are all gratefully accepted as I’m very gullible.
Hello September.

Afternoon, that time has come. It must be Sunday as I’m getting that term time Sunday night feeling. How unkind to make the last day of the holiday so hot you think you might be hormonally overheating, when in fact it’s just glorious weather!

Honestly Fiona xxx