Neglect, n.

Neglect.  As in My blog has fallen into a state of neglect.  I haven’t written anything. It has accumulated spam comments (now deleted, I hope).  There are real comments, including some from Reluctant Memsahib, one of my favourite reads, and I haven’t responded.   I’ve been busy. I’ve been away. I have lots of excuses.  I don’t really like excuses, though.   My sister has taken me to task. “Why doesn’t your blog work? It won’t load” she asked.   I think it’s sulking.

It’s not that there’s a shortage of material.  The holiday, for instance, is begging to be told.  Stories about the fading American lady in Fiji who served us homemade liqueur with our iced coffee at her verandah cafe.  About diving the Barrier Reef and the Rainbow Reef and the time we spent together as a family.  The sharks, cane toads,  turtles, fruit bats, crocodiles, crickets, the leaf insect, strangler figs and orchids.  The beaches we visited and the food we ate.  The emotional reunion in San Diego with Kristen, a friend we’ve not seen for over 16 years and who I refound through Facebook.  Lots to tell and I will get there eventually.

Then there’s exams, two lots done but not quite dusted (some appeals in hand I believe).  Results ranging from wonderful to mmm….  Back to the afterthought that is 6th Year in Scotland – what is all that about?  We’re approaching the end of our dealings with Scottish schools but every time I think I’ve got a handle on it, it all confounds me.  If the logic of the system still defies me,  GPD has no chance.  There’s a whole rant to develop there.   And I’ve been on fieldwork. Otters at dawn in Shetland, seaweeds in the rain in Pembrokeshire.  Stunning geology, flocks of choughs and ravens. 

I could tell you that my cancer now seems so far away that I’d forgotten about my 3 month check up next week and hadn’t arranged a blood test.  It would have been unimaginable a few months ago that I could have forgotten.  And my hair desperately needs cutting.  I’d like to write in defence of the wonderful NHS in response to some of the unbelievable rubbish and misconceptions I’ve heard coming out of the USA recently.

I could write about all those things but instead let me tell you about towels.  Wet towels. Lots of them.  Eleven at the last count – that’s 11 – although I think there are a couple more lurking in swim bags.  I thought teenage boys were supposed to be unhygienic, smelly things who detested water.  Not these days I find.  In our house, if a teenager can’t have a shower in the morning and at least one more shower a day, there is a real risk of cataclysm.  Save water? Not here.  Each shower demands a clean towel. A clean towel which is used once and then discarded on the floor or dumped damply into the laundry basket.   Boys are clean and smell of chemicals, towels are rank.

Apparently a towel cannot be used twice – yuk, what a disgusting prospect!  I suggest that, if they’ve washed themselves properly, they should only be mopping up clean water from their fragrant bodies (have I mentioned the aerosols yet?).   But no, that would be gross.  So I arrived home last night after an 11 hour drive home from Wales to find 11 towels in the overflowing laundry basket and an empty airing cupboard.

It has rained all morning and there’s more to come.  How can I wash and dry all those towels, I ask?  They’ll have to forgo clean t-shirts while I deal with the towel mountain.  Tough.

Perhaps I’ve been neglecting my duties as a mum as well as my blog.  Better get busy.



9 thoughts on “Neglect, n.

  1. Welcome back! and what set of adventures to relate.

    Your son would be appalled at my towel habits….reused not just once, but maybe for a whole week!!

    (I suggest you introduce a hairdryer and forgo the towels)

  2. Good to have you back. And even better to hear about your adventures. Sounds like you are living life the way it’s meant to be lived – to the full.

  3. Welcome back…I so recognise the towel thing! Hehe…My youngest is the only one of my four who has developed this habit, exactly as you describe and he’s off to his Music course and a flat in Edinburgh in 2 weeks. I wonder how many towels he’ll find he “needs” then?

  4. Ladies, thank you for your comments. So nice to know there are still people out there read my ramblings.

    Mud, I do like the hairdryer idea. They already think their parents are quitee disgusting, using the same towel for a whole week.

    Helen, life is rather too full at the moment. I’m hoping for a quiet winter. Time to plan another holiday, perhaps.

    And Dorothy I’m quite sure your son’s standards will plummet as soon as he’s fending for himself. I hope you’re looking forward to the sacks of washing at the weekend. Very exciting time, though, off on his own. I’m dreading it!

  5. Welcome back, it sounds like you’ve had a busy summer. It’s certainly the first report I’ve had of a sulking blog, but nothing surprises me where computers are concerned. I’ve always been convinced that printers can sense your emotional state, and know exactly when getting a document printed *really* matters to you…

    I have one leaving this year. Never mind towels, I’m looking forward to getting the bathroom back.

  6. @david hehe! Just the bathroom? In our house we’ll be able to reclaim the hall, the stairs, the whole music room, the sofa, the cereal bowls, the spoons….

  7. … and you’ll both have a spare room for visitors. But won’t it seem like a huge empty space for a while. You’ll be so glad at Christmas when you can’t get near the bathroom again.

    Funny that about printers. We were just discussing the other day how we don’t use our printers nearly as much any more. I used to have to print out huge reports, several copies, at the end of a project on my HP Laserjet workhorse and I bought an A3 colour printer for maps. These days no one wants printed copies any more, thank goodness; it was always so fraught especially when you realised at page 143 that you’d made a page numbering mistake at page 10.

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