There’s too much stuff in this house. Or we need a bigger house.
Stuff. It’s definitely stuff. Three bedrooms, three people…and we all sleep in one bed anyway.
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s stuff. Daisy’s stuff. My stuff. Paul’s stuff.
Lots of walks out, keeping busy, creating and cooking, that usually helps me through the ‘for fucks sake, burn it all! Let’s live like C15 monks! Beeswax! We need LOTS of beeswax’ stage of the year.
Like I say, October’s traditionally a time of mania for me. Not real, bi-polar mania, just a strange antzyness, an odd feeling of distant upset, gathering clouds and reflection.
Am I a good mum? Am I? Should I throw away the telly and live in a teepee? Should Daisy ditch the toys and have instead a creative-mind creating expressionless doll and a grubby bit of sheep’s wool to play with? Should I be crafting her clothes from hessian?
Is her bubble bath giving her cancer? Do I feed her the right things? Is it right that a 22m old can count?
For answers to these and other important questions, join me for cocktails at 8…