Isle of Wight – day 3

Wednesday 26^th July – am

I was awoken by Vivien at 6am. I felt hot; my skin was red, and my forehead on fire. My left eye stuck shut, so I dipped my fingers in to my water and flicked the cool liquid onto my eyelid. I lay for a second wondering why we age. Why do we have this menopause? Why does my eye never open, what is the meaning of life and why the ruddy fuck is Vivien on a skateboard at 6am.

She whizzed into the bedroom and quickly scuttled out as I sat up and belted out a deep Noooooo from the depth of my stomach.  Carolyn shot up from her doze and looked left and right in a speedy movement I had not seen since Pans People danced on TOTP. Alas there was no sexy look upon her face – she was angry.  I pretended I was dozy and slowly lay my head upon the pillow and closed my eyes.  I heard her swear a little as she headed to the kitchen.  I coughed and asked in my ever so nice voice if she would make me a cup of hot water and lemon. She told me to bugger off.

I could hear the rustling of things in the kitchen and the faint noise coming from the sitting room TV.  I lay back and slipped into my mindfulness state.  Breathing deeply through my nose and out through my mouth. I tried to mentally ignore the noises from the kitchen, and instead focussed on my breathing. Boredom overtook me, I felt a bit light headed, giddy and panicky. I tried to control my breathing, visualising how our day would be today, sun, sea, snifter with Jolyon + Cath, I grinned a little until Vivien came whizzing up the corridor and into the bedroom  again crashing into the bedside table and spilling my water.  My one good eye opened wide as the left eye stung like fuck.  It was time to get up.

The girls were eating breakfast; their shoulders and faces were bright red after a day in the sun. We had not expected it to be so hot. Carolyn’s face was shiny red with little white circles where her glasses had sat. I ran into the bathroom and stared at my own face.  It was florid and patchy. My face resembled a baboon’s ass.

We decided to spend the day chillaxing. A word I hate but I thought I would throw it in.  The sky was grey. It was raining. The forecast for the week was no different.  To make matters worse I had only packed summer stuff.

I smothered the girls with more Hemp body cream as they watched some animated rubbish and thought about lunch today.  My eccentric brother Jolyon (Lord Miller to his family) and his g/f Cath were in Yarmouth for a few days.  The plan was to go collect them and bring them back to Seaview as we had booked a table at a rather nice restaurant.

We were all excited to go and see them.  The journey was no more than 25 minutes.

What could possibly go wrong?

 

Isle of Wight – shopping

 

Monday 24^th July

Is it still only Monday I thought as we headed straight to the supermarket. The trip arduous. The roads thin, bendy, and vomit enducing. I should have driven myself as Carolyn took a corner like a blind man racing. I hung onto the rail above my head, silently spitting venom. The girls swayed from left to right, Ruby felt sick. Vivien just squeaked. We were all hungry and tired. The girls were demanding music, so I put on an old Bob Dylan number and got lost in Maggie’s Farm until Carolyn rudely swapped Bob for Bruno Mars. I was outruddynumbered. I sat back, closed my eyes, and reminisced the good old days when I had no responsibilities. The emergency stop shook me to the core, my body lurched forward and the water I was sipping travelled up my nose as I snorted in anger, and into my eyes. Carolyn was swearing at the woman in front and I was swearing just because I could.  We had arrived at the supermarket.

My gusset was damp. The girls were red faced and crying with hunger and tiredness. Carolyn just hungry.  I walked in, ordered Carolyn to take the trolley and I would grab the food. The girls shivered and turned blue down the refridgated isle. People stared. I stared back. The whole ruddy experience was a nightmare. I broke away and found myself in the wine isle where I caressed a bottle of Margaux and dribbled at the Bollinger.  Alas we had a budget, so I came away with poor man’s champagne and a bottle of Rose.  Oh how the good old days have gone.

The house was fabulous, as always. Plenty of space, and spitting distance to the beach. The sun was out and the sky blue. Let’s hit it I said and off we went.  Surely it must be time for a snifter?

Isle of Wight 2017 – a short break

Monday 24th July

Our lovely friends had offered us their holiday home for a week in the IOW.  We love Seaview and took up their kind offer without hesitation.  After what seems a long term for the kids a whole week with no work, no school drop off and pick up, no council meetings was just what we needed. The kids were beside themselves  – their excitement was becoming too much for me, I had to sit down and stroke Misty my faithful yet crusty cat. Her purr was deep and then it stopped. She looked at me in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I fear she knew we were going away, and she was fucked about it. I continued stroking, sucking at my extra strong mint and fingering her crustations that had gathered around her ear.

The hallway was packed. 2 suitcases, bags of food, bags of crap that the kids wanted to take. How the fuck is it possible that we will need all this ‘stuff’ for one week in England. I had nevertheless packed very conservatively. I had it on good authority the weather was to be good for the entire week; I had therefore packed my summer garments, and a cardi just in case.

Misty stared at me from the bedroom window as we packed the Landy. I felt a little sad for a second and then pulled myself together.  The furry fucker would be fine, my old mate Lou Lou was in charge of my pussy whilst I was away.

As Carolyn sat in the car, I could see her anger building as I was doing the last minute check of the house, my OCD kicking in once again. I grabbed my extra strong mints, my phone and bag and jumped into the car.  At last we were off.

The journey was horrid. Carolyn’s stop start driving made me feel quite sick. I sat in silence humming Jerusalem and praying our arrival imminent. Hurrah! We’ve arrived.

I watched the family in the car next door stuffing their florid faces with cheese sarnies and crisps as a slither of dribble took a journey down my newly hairy chin. Clearly a menopausal development. I wipe quickly, aware they have noticed me staring. I suck hard on my extra strong mint and hope to myself that the family to my left, right and in front are not staying anywhere near us. They are not my sort.

A sudden jolt and we’re boarding the ferry. Goodbye. For now.

 

 

Hello 3.30am

21st August.3.30am my alarm went off. Startled I sat bolt upright, I’d only been asleep for 4 hours. My left eye was stuck shut. I peeled it open whilst trying not to scream. The pain was intense. The house was deadly quiet. It was pitch black. The house slept. And then the deep purring from the end of my bed, closer and closer until I could smell what can only be described as the foulest of dog turd/gum diseased breaths. Misty my faithful yet crusty cat had awoken. I felt her whisker touch my nose and retched silently as the vile stench from her putrid purr caressed my nostrils and filled the room quicker than a fart in a lift. I pushed her off the bed but she clung on to the duvet and meowed in my face. Her demonic crusty eyes glinted and for a second I felt scared. My reptilian foot did the trick and she legged it downstairs. Carolyn woke from a deep sleep. I could sense she was not in the best of moods. Followed by the girls. Hurrah I thought as I applied more Nivea to my sore Brazilian and tried hard not to scratch it – we are off on holiday today. Let’s hope the journey is pain free. P l e a s e!!