Breathless

Despite resigning from the magazine that was not paying me (a first in my 16 years as a freelancer, so I should be grateful), work seems to have gone into overdrive. My dance card looks like this right now:

1. Editing custom magazine, at layout right now with designer whose main interests appear to be bodybuilding and ignoring my requests.

2. Editing 550pp book on defamation law. Enough said.

3. Teaching 1.5 days per week, split over four days, with constant changes because That Is What School Is Like.

4. Extra teaching days from time to time. See above.

5. Massive copywriting job for major new client.

For non-work entertainment I have:

1. Organising costumes for 200 children for school musical. I can't remember why I said I would do this. Perhaps because it will be Kid 2's last musical at primary school.

2. Being treasurer/registrar of the baseball club, just as we head into the summer season.

3. Cooking/cleaning/kid-wrangling and assorted other domestic duties.

Just as well I'm not good at leisure time.

Saturday Night Fever

On Saturday night we had people over. The plan was to have dinner and then play games. Yes, very nerdy, I know, but rather a fun way to spend an evening.

It didn't quite turn out like that. One couple optimistically brought their almost two-year-old and their 9-week old baby. Miss Almost Two wasn't at all bad, she just declined to sleep, so Kid 2 spent most of the evening wrangling her.

Then one of our guests pulled out at 4pm. (Is it just me or is that not awfully rude? Barring a death in the family ...) So we asked another couple, who ALSO have a 9-week old baby. Bravely, they accepted. Baby was ever so good.

Nevertheless, by 10pm, we conceded defeat. At least we got to eat (gougeres, beef bourguignon - yes, I'm lazy - bread, salad, apple tart) and chat and have a few glasses of wine between people disappearing for feeds and the toddler trying to kill the animals.

Working Girl

I have just been offered - and accepted - some time up at school helping out with language and maths support teaching. Although this will only take up a day and a half a week in total, it will be spread over three days. This works in well with my other work - sometimes it's nice to see other human beings - but it means I need to extend my teaching wardrobe. There is no dress policy as such, but I think it's important not to wear jeans, and to make an effort. I've had winter sorted with a few wool dresses and a good pair of black pants, flat boots and Oxfords, but as the weather warms up I'm going to need some other options ...

All suggestions gratefully accepted.

The Grey Zone

I found my first grey hair at 19. A few years ago, after a couple of vanity-free months in South America (no makeup, only sunscreen, no hair cut or colour, the shabbiest of clothes), I had my hair cropped super short in San Francisco. I didn't mind the sprinkling of grey that was revealed, but when I got back to work one of my junior colleagues asked me about my retirement plans. I was 39 at that point and somewhat wounded, so I went back to colouring it. Since then I've had dark brown, red, strawberry blonde, superblonde and all variations in between.

But you know what? I hate going to the hairdresser. I hate the time wasted sitting in a chair while waiting for my hair to turn a different colour. I hate having to make inane conversation (or perhaps not being able to choose with whom to have that inane conversation). 

So a couple of weeks ago I went and had it cut but not coloured. I can't really calculate how much grey I've got, but it's plenty. And guess what? I love it. I will have to get someone to take a photo some time. Think Jamie Lee Curtis without the cleavage ...

2 Days in Paris

I'd like to say I've been on holidays, but I haven't. I've been working like a maniac, neglecting my children and letting my house get overrun by dust bunnies (or 'slut's wool', as Margaret Atwood referred to it in Alias Grace - strange the things that stick in my mind).

Deadlines aren't over yet. And I have somehow also managed to get saddled with organising costumes and sets for Kid 2's school musical. When I'm not having nightmares about work, I'm having nightmares about finding cheap boys' Hawaiian shirts in the middle of winter ...

BUT, there is one exciting thing I have to look forward to, which should drag me through the rest of the work/life chaos - we are going to the UK and France next year! Kid 1 will be 15, and so it will probably be the last time he willingly goes on a family holiday; it will be Kid 2's last year of primary school. I think the timing is just right.

The plan is to fly to London and spend a few days there, then head over to Paris. Again, a few days, maybe a week, in the city, then we want to rent a house somewhere for about 10 days. I need a picturesque house somewhere with markets ... Spouse requires access to the Tour.

Love, Actually

Kid 1 is on school holidays, so hanging around the house mooching when not skateboarding. This afternoon he said to me 'Do you think Scout [the dog] actually loves us?'

'I'm not sure', I said. 'Maybe not love as we understand it, but certainly a feeling of belonging and loyalty'.

'But that's what love is, isn't it?' said Kid 1.

Clearly the hormones haven't kicked in yet. He will be 14 next week.

I think I have premature nostalgia. This line is from The Private Lives of Pippa Lee (Rebecca Miller): 'It was so lonely, knowing things about her children that they no longer remembered. Layers of experience eroded from their minds but petrified in her own.'

Best I go and do something vigorous and cheerful.

Saturday Night Fever

Last week was a ghastly sort of a week on several fronts, so I was very happy when the weekend arrived. As usual, I spent most of Saturday afternoon in the kitchen. I roasted a free-range duck from the farmers' markets up the road, with a fabulous tomato, olive and mushroom sauce (a recipe from the excellent Bistro Food by Patricia Wells). Emboldened by my success with a nut tart a while back, I also made a chocolate and hazelnut tart. (I also made a cheesecake, but that was for visiting friends on Sunday so it doesn't really count.)

We invited a friend over, and spent the evening sitting in the library/dining room, enjoying our newly discovered functioning coal fire (the old part of the house is Victorian), eating, drinking wine and chatting about books. Books are an unavoidable topic in this room, as you can see from the pic. What was most bizarre about the evening is that this friend of ours, G, loves to talk about books - but only ever sees the movies of ... He Doesn't Read. I can never quite get my head around this; and every time he comes over, Spouse tries to lend him at least one book. We do love our books.

Anyway, G works in social media, and was telling us that he thinks books as they exist now will soon be a thing of the past and only eccentric collectors (he included us) will buy them. They will be expensive and very much a niche thing ... Hmmm.