annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Tuesday is sooooup

Today has been hard. I woke up to a message from Grandson saying he was very poorly – I think in the end it’s just a heavy cold but he’s only two weeks into living alone for the first time ever and he doesn’t have a mother and it’s hard. We’d had roast chicken on Sunday so I’d made stock yesterday so I texted that I’d make some chicken soup and bring it round later. It was hard fitting it in between the art group and writing group – as soon as it got hard, I wanted to go to art group instead of thinking it would all be easy if I missed it, but there you go. I’m not part of the mental health community for nothing. But I did it, made some delicious soup, did a fairly poor painting in art group, loaded up the car, jar of soup on the floor in the back, and off to writing group on my way to Grandson’s.
As I turn the corner onto the main road there’s a strange clunk from the back of the car and the unmistakeable aroma of chicken soup fills the car. I didn’t put the lid of the jar on properly, it fell over and most of the broth leaked out, all over the assortment of shit on the floor of the car. My swimming costume. The rug I sit on on the beach. My scarf, a couple of sarongs. Quite a lot of paper. I pulled over but couldn’t get out of the car till the lights changed as lorries were thundering past – not too bad really, it hadn’t toppled right over so there was still a portion of soup left, but there had been two and all that delicious broth and the car! Sticky shite all over the floor of the car!
After that everything was just a bit off kilter. But I kept going, did the group, visited poorly boy, heated up soup, listened, made lemon, ginger and honey tea for him, listened a bit more, came away with a big bag of washing (still in the car, in the front, out of soup range). Blah blah can’t be arsed to relive it all and I did make some delicious rock cakes to cheer myself up, but I was due to be going to London to stay with Son this weekend and swim in the Hampstead ponds – mythical ponds, they are, close to his new flat – and Bloke announces that he’s going away this weekend so can’t look after the dog. Daughter also is busy, so no dog minder and I’m not going to Son’s till the following weekend, boo. On the plus side I get two weekends without Bloke, but honestly, I was counting down the days.

11:53 p.m. - 01.10.24

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