Today's highlight was a funeral

Today didn’t start at all well. 

Coming down the stairs, I could smell what I can only describe as three-day-old baby vomit, bucketfuls of it. Bins need emptying, thought I. No they didn’t. Dishes need washing then. There were indeed a few in the sink, but only vegetably stuff from the previous evening. Something off in the fridge? Getting close. 

After rummaging around, I found that a large tub of double cream had fallen over and emptied itself. But not in the fridge itself. Oh no; that would have been far too easy. The emptying had occurred directly into the condensation channel at the back of the fridge, down the nozzle, and into the inaccessible reservoir beyond. It was now in a solid state and retchingly pungent.

The only thing I could think of was to break it down with some nuclear-grade degreaser squirted down the nozzle and … well … I’m not sure what to do next. I’ll see how bad it smells in the morning. If I can’t get rid of it I’ll comfort myself with the excuse that I won’t be able to have the mother-in-law to stay.

I was temporarily cheered – despite going to a funeral – by being able to squeeze into a dress I hadn’t worn for two years. It had been too tight, but after my nightmare November and not eating, it now looked quite fetching if I say so myself. The new conditioner on my hair had worked great, and it looked uncharacteristically stylish. But the helmet of hairspray was no match for the wind gusts that pummelled me as soon as I stepped out of the door.

The funeral itself, while sad, conveyed calm, comfort, and camaraderie. My friend arrived just in time for the start of proceedings. She’d had difficulty parking and I thought I’d have to give up the seat I was saving as it was standing room only. At my funeral, I’ll be lucky if the undertakers turn up.

There was no opportunity of course to chat during the ceremony. Afterwards we both had to promptly go our separate ways, only having time for a quick hug.

Yet I felt as buoyed by her brief company as if we’d had our usual don’t-let-the-bastards-get-you-down girlie gossip over three cappuccinos. There’s something about an easy, natural, don’t-have-to-try-or-stress-or-negotiate friendship that is so rare and to be cherished. And I’m blessed with several of them! Yeah, I don’t understand it either.

Back home, Hubby had returned earlier than expected because he’d fallen off his bike.

But I was more bothered about the ladder in my tights. New on this morning, another £15 down the drain.

I went to get lunch to cheer us both up – homemade scotch eggs and salad, except I must have got the bags of tomatoes mixed up during the week, and the ones left were covered in white furry mould. So salad consisted of, er, lettuce.

After lunch I had planned to prep for a meeting on Monday, but I never quite settled down to it. If the dishwasher didn’t need filling, the washing machine needed emptying. If Hubby didn’t want some info checking then I had to scrutinise Mum’s invoices as she is incorrectly charged far too often for me to be relaxed about it.

Then an important phone call didn’t quite go the way I’d hoped and I had to come up with a last-minute, on-the-hoof concession to save the day. Hollywood movies are less dramatic!

By the time that was out of the way, I had to think about prepping supper, which would have gone more smoothly had I remembered to get the prawns out of the freezer. So out they came and into the boiler room they went.

Waiting for them to at least soften if not defrost, I skyped my friend in Germany. We talked about Covid, our Christmasses, her kids, my shoulder, her parents, my mother, her cat, our hoped-for 2022 holidays, and recipes. Intellectually bereft, but oh so good for the soul.

So at the end of today, I have enjoyed the company (albeit one virtual) of two very good friends (don't forget Hubby). I can’t help thinking of the poor chap who buried his wife today, and that however many family and friends rally round him, he is missing one rare and cherished friendship.

RIP, Lovely Lady.