Not sure that I can blame recent hopelessness of diary-keeping entirely on school holidays, which children now seem to manage very well without noticeable maternal involvement – though do somehow still feel that normal life is On Hold until new term begins.
Have recently returned from second trip away with family; eschew more obviously teenage-friendly destinations in favour of remote cottage in North Yorkshire surrounded by sheep and cattle, and six miles from nearest shop, and am relieved that after surprisingly sunny week of walking, throwing stones in rivers and visiting Yves St Laurent exhibition holiday is pronounced Better Than We Thought It Would Be. Younger son fortunately avoids public use of what he fondly considers to be a Northern accent and confines his mimicry urge to rather unsettlingly accurate versions of my own musings on What Family Holidays Were Like When I Was Young.
Back home to find farmers already ploughing the fields, garden looking distinctly faded, and evenings undeniably Drawing In. Feel overwhelming desire to visit Dreamland.
Hottest Day Of The Year So Far, and boys have all-day sports tournament at school; stern warnings about perils of over-exertion duly ignored as they set off in more than usually potent clouds of Lynx.
Take dog for early walk through hazy countryside, admiring butterflies and doing best not to notice already harvested fields and blackberries appearing in hedgerows – though am not entirely clear why own increasing sense of Time Slipping Away always seems so much more intense in summer.
Am getting vicariously excited about daughter’s approaching festival trip; have sorted out tickets, travel and tent, so she can devote day to much more challenging task of deciding What To Wear.
Second session helping at pensioners’ lunch in Village Hall; have now become permanent member of Chicken Casserole and Bread-and-Butter Pudding Team, though suspect will continue to be treated as The New Girl for several more years.
Make last effort to finish Bring Up the Bodies before returning it to library. Do not sadly share friend’s opinion of its brilliance, but it does bring back happy memories of daughter dressed up as Jane Seymour when Doing The Tudors in primary school.
Life beginning to feel very summery; countryside like a Monet landscape, garden in full bloom, constant cricket chatter in background, and first raspberries appearing. And only two more days of GCSEs.
Convince myself that son’s request for Linseed Oil necessitates a proper Shopping Expedition, and set off for cathedral city through countryside suddenly bursting with lush greenness; reflect on all the joys of May (horse chestnuts, wedding anniversary, general elections).
Dash in and out of Sports Direct as quickly as possible, then wander along ancient streets through milling crowds of students and tourists. Decide that Really Do Need some new trousers, and venture into Jigsaw. Find friendly assistant and emerge Some Time Later with rather more than trousers, and an undeniable feeling of Pure Happiness.