This morning, after catching up on some other people's blogs, I was thinking about the directions on the porridge box and decided to start blogging again. Yes, I know, this all sounds strange but it is how my thought process works sometimes.
I was making porridge for the family, who love it (for all those going "URGH"). Those of you who really know me, know that I spend a lot of time in the kitchen and am quite happy there preparing meals, but something you may not know is that I don't do breakfast. I mean I always eat breakfast but I don't cook it for anyone else, except for the occasional pot of porridge. I was thinking about this and opening the porridge packet which had 2 step instructions on how to do this and I was thinking, "how dumb do you need to be to have 2 step instructions on how to open a porridge packet", when I realised that I only ever do the first step, "push the flap in" and not the second step "pull the flap out" and that is why I curse about the flap being in the way of the porridge coming out. It made me realise that probably the reason I don't cook in the morning is that my brain doesn't turn on until I have eaten. Yes, sometimes even that doesn't work but I do try.
My other bit to share, which is probably completely boring and uninteresting, but appealed to my sense of humour (yes Phil, the one I use to hide my intelligence), is that my mother has been very ill and was hospitalised for almost a week and even when sent home they had no answers on what was wrong other than her liver is not working properly. She has been spending most of her time in bed, something I do not remember my mother doing before and had asked me on Monday whether I could partner my father to Clover Cottage on Wednesday night for a Hospital Auxiliary night. Now I love dining out, and Clover Cottage is extremely good, but I already had a prior commitment (information night for our (BATS) upcoming Midsummer Night's Dream) but Mum said that if I didn't go with Dad, he wouldn't go and so I felt guilty and said yes, so now have to have everything all organised for someone else to do my part tonight, and I am really looking forward to spending the evening with a predominantly female turn up, the youngest of which is probably 65 - NOT. For this I am passing up an evening of reading Shakespeare - gotta love the choices! Anyway, rambling again, last night Mum seemed a bit better and I said that maybe she would be well enough to go and that she could let me know this arvo whether she felt up to it or not. She said she didn't want to muck me around like that. Lucky this was on the phone so she couldn't see the facial expressions. I said that was fine and to just left me know by 5pm. Mum then said how nice I was to be this giving and rambled on. I didn't want to spoil things for her by telling her how I really felt, but my family all laughed about her "how nice you are" comment and said they thought my mother knew me better than that.
