Happy Birthday to you and you and you and you and you.........

Ssshhhhh............ There's more.    But we have ticked the boxes marked Birthdays in THIS house.    And sailed through another today via the phone.    There are still 4 more family ones and several others in August still to be 'done',   but our bins are through with envelopes,   sellotape and wiry twisty things for another year.    Well,   until the C word that is.    Ssshhhhhh  -  don't mention the C word!!!!!!

After the weekend I think I might even lower my eyebrows back to the factory settings.    Reposition shoulders half a dozen notches down.    And breathe out.

And obviously live off porridge for the next 6 weeks.    Although September is filling up.    It all starts again doesn't it?    The things that kind of stopped.    Start again.    Wrapped around the things that haven't stopped.    And then there's the things that just seem to burst into my life in September.    Things  -  dates on the calendar.    Written in June they seem so innocent.    Halfway through August they look menacing.  

And the things we restart....    Need confirming.    Some need more forms.    All need paying.    Need attention.  

NOT INTERESTED  -  until we are actually there.    But people who do,  need to know who,  and how many,  and when,  and they want to know NOW.    Bloody people.    I can't get my head round all this organising stuff.   It's August.    It's the Smokingun Birthday Season.    I'm not available.

And then I go and organise something too.    Sort of by accident.    Got asked to.    Said yes.    Stupid.

I now have a list of 169 people who want to come to something I'M  'organising'.    And another 8 asked today.    Me?    It's torture.    I have to make phone calls.    I don't like making phone calls.    I don't like all this 'Hello' stuff.  

      *  *  Don't you know where Hell is...

               Hell is in 'Hello'....  *   *    


Something like that.    I always loved that song.    Not sure I really was Born Under a Wandering Star.    Probably more like Under a Duvet Cover but it doesn't scan so well.

But anyway  -  next week.    Porridge and the Duvet.    Possibly a good title for my autobiography  (like THAT's going to be a finger-sizzler!)    Looking forward to not looking forward.    Dreaming of daydreaming.    Navel contemplation.    (Eugh.   Not mine.    Not after 4 kids.    Maybe one of theirs....    Maybe I'll contemplate something else.    Something without bits in...)

And eat cake.    We have lots of cake.    All chocolate.    Everyone has to have their own Birthday Cake don't they?    (Don't they?)    In the shape of a hamster  ('It looks like a mouse.'    'Is that a hedgehog?'    'What's with the giant rat?'    'It's a bloody Zhu-Zhu Pet hamster!    It's a hamster alright?'    'Why have you made a rodent cake?  In THIS house for gods' sake!'    'It's a cute Zhu-Zhu thing!  Like his thing!  And it's cute and have you got any matches?'    'No.'    'Shit.')

Or perhaps the next day,  in the shape of his name?    ('What's that black stuff you're scraping off the chisel?'   'Shut up and get the hammer I need to put the candles on.    Did you buy any matches?'   'No.'    'Shit.')

Yes we have lots of cake.

I have Cake and the Duvet.    A far better suggestion.    A perfect pairing.

That's what I should have organised.    Not a Home Ed rampage on a pleasant rural annual event.    I should have posted up for volunteers for a Cake-In.    A 24/7 crumb fest.   In your navel.    Summer holidays have finally begun!    Not Monday tho'.    Busy then.    And Tuesday.    Oh can't do Wednesday and have just agreed to do something else on Thursday..........  

Well.....  for a couple of hours next Friday anyway.    Come to my Summer Holiday Cake-In!    Join me Under the Duvet.    Be there or be sort of rodent-shaped.


Oh and can you bring some matches?