It’s been a difficult month for us all at Boyle Bungalow.
First we had personal tradegy. Then we have had job uncertainty. (On my part.) The fact that we have been hemorrhaging money at work for the best part of a year has suddenly come to everybody’s attention, and as area managers, centre managers, directors and bloomin’ Uncle Tom Cobbley and all rush about like headless chickens, me and my boss are left to try and pick up the pieces. Let’s just say most of their schemes to turn the business around are ill thought out, impractical, take no account of what parents want, and don’t even get me started on the difference between good quality, child led play and persuading two year olds to Make Something For Mummy and Daddy. ( so we can fleece their poor parents for £1)
Any hoo. So. Here I am, staring possible redundancy in the face for the first time in my working life which I suppose ain’t bad considering my very advanced age. And wondering if I can really stomach another job in child care.. ..
Still, every cloud has a silver lining, keep the home fires burning, pack up your troubles in your old kit bag, and chin up old girl. The plus side of this month has been a good busy month on my website, lots of enquiries, and several firm bookings.( Also one phone call asking lengthy and convoluted questions about the ferry service, not to book the flat, but just out of interest.. but we’ll draw a veil over that one.)
This week promised to be quiet at work, so I took the opportunity to take a week’s holiday and get down to Millport. I wanted to get some decorating done in George St, and on Friday, I has two lots of renters to let in.
The Happy Cyclists, as Chris and I dubbed them, rented my flat last year. They consist of several middle aged ladies who do a sponsored cycle for a different charity every year.
Last year was for teenage cancer care , and it hardly seems possible that only a year ago I was telling them about a success story, and this year I was telling them about a loss… but I digress.
This year, they were all cycling for MPS awareness and their numbers had swelled from about ten to a mighty twenty. I had a phone call in mid March from a stressed lady asking if I had any other accommodation for the weekend, as their usual landlady had been unable to give them this weekend.( I think with it being Bank Holiday, accommodation is scarce.)
I immediately thought of Pam’s flat, and with just a brief phone call to Jane, we agreed that another eight cheery cyclists could rent her mum’s flat.
Jane’s mum’s flat is slowly being emptied and sorted out, but as it’s not even on the market yet, we have a bit to go yet. I phoned Jane last week to give her an up date.
“Of course there is still the freezer in the shed to empty..”
“What freezer in the shed?” said Jane suspiciously.
“Your mum had a freezer in the shed. It’s full of food. Didn’t you know?” I replied.
“Oh god. What’s in it?” groaned Jane.
“well….Food. Will I..” (brilliant idea dawning)”.. will I eat it?”
“Er… yes. gotta go. Important clients on their way.”
I’ve known Jane for nearly thirty years, and one of the things I love about her is that she is the complete antithesis of me. She’s ambitious, driven, political, sharp… and she has a heart of gold.She is Perfect Daughter’s god parent and I love the idea that Perfect Daughter has both sides of the “motherhood ” coin to see.( Jane gave birth to Katie and almost immediately asked for her cell phone and a fag.)
So off I went to Millport on the Monday with my customary list of “Thing To Do” including an ambitious “Eat the contents of Pam’s freezer” underlined in red.
When I arrived I had a quick appraisal. Hmmn. Most food had “best before” dates, which I take with a big pinch of salt.
i started with some salmon, and some rice, which had a “best before” date of 2008. Cautiously I helped it down with some beer which had a “best before ” date of 2009. Then I watched telly and knitted, and waited to see if I died.
With some surprise I awoke feeling refreshed, alert, and ready to take all the crap off the bathroom walls in George St. I’ve decided I need to curtail myself to one job, and that job was going to be:
“PAINT THE BATHROOM”
Because if I don’t I have a tendency to move from job to job, with little effect. You know.. “ooh, thats a big gap in the skirting. I wonder where the filler is… oh… gosh.. look at that tooth brush holder on the shutters?? That’s odd.. it’s really stuck too…..oh my! coffee time!!”
And so on.
So I did get all the random bathroom holes filled in, despite the sunshine beckoning me outside. I listened to Radio four as I did this, and when I finally stopped for a cuppa, I made friends with Ivy The Amazing Fluffy Cat from upstairs. Ivy likes my flat a lot and I like Ivy because her legs are so fluffy she looks like she is wearing plus fours. This makes me laugh every time.
Thursday I finally got the bathroom painted a fetching shade of Pale Blue (the Thatcher Years) which I had finally decided was the only shade which looked half decent in a cludgie with no windae.
I must have been hanging about in Lucy’s Attic 24 too much (damn that girl!!)- for which I hold a cat entirely responsible. Because I now want 50’s floral accessories to soften the look a tad, and am on E bay looking for Kath Kidson.
I had out of date paella for tea, out of date wine (complete with sediment) and slept the sleep of the just.
Friday was cyclists day. They told me they were arriving at four, which gave me plenty of time to have a cuppa with Sandra, my next door neighbour and get every thing ready in two flats. No bed linen required, which is a godsend, as sixteen lots of linen plus towels would have kept me going at the washing machine for weeks!
When I ambled up to Crawford st, I could see a sea of purple wigs, and the sound of raucous laughter. That’ll be my cylists I thought.
And indeed it was. I felt I should have an umbrella to tell them to muster under, like a tour guide, as I let them all into the flats. explained bed settees, hot water, showers and beds. They all seemed perfectly happy with Pam’s flat, so I hope this bodes well for the season.
Then I headed up to George St, more Radio Four ( no telly) and another out of date meal. This time curry, rice, Guinness, and at bed time some toast and peanut butter.
Again I slept well, woken only by the gentle slap of sea on sand from Kames Bay, audible if I leave the window open. Even the slow puncture on the Aero Bed didn’t disturb me.
But all good things must come to an end ( so they tell me) and after a lovely breakfast in The Dancing Midge- highly recommended!- it was time to take a few photos of my Cheery Cyclists. They had now been joined by some unconvincing “ladies” with beards and hairy arms.
Then it was time to return to Falkirk, which I didn’t much want to do, to be honest, but the kitties were pleased to see me, Big Man was pleased to see me and not be Sole Parent In Charge Of Teenager.. even Thin White Duke was pleased to see me and suffered a big sloppy kiss from me on his downy little face…
So it’s count my blessings time and battle on, and see what the summer brings.