Friday, July 05, 2013

The luxury of not worrying

It’s been a hectic week – all my weeks are hectic at the moment – and I am relishing sitting in bed at 7.37 taking things slowly, despite the list of tasks I have to do this morning i.e. tidying up, deciding what to cook for guests (much harder than actually cooking it), shopping for food, transforming said food into a tasty lunch. Downstairs, Dave is playing his electric guitar. (I am reporting, not complaining: I realised yesterday that I would rather have a husband I love who plays the electric guitar at ungodly hours, than a dead husband.)

My monthly discussion group is coming over, and they are the only people who when they visit, I am not troubled by such questions as What on earth am I going to feed them? and Is the house clean enough?

On the first count, they think I am a great cook, they are greedy, and they are omnivores, which means it’s a pleasure to cook for them because I know that they’ll love whatever I give them and they’ll tell me so, too.

On the second count, their houses are no cleaner or tidier than mine on a day-to-day basis (with the exception of Sue Price.)

So here’s to not worrying.

And here’s to my chirpy granddaughters – also not worrying.



Anonymous said...

Did the thought about a noisy husband being better than a dead one come from somewhere else? Somewhere online by any chance? Part of a discussion about retired husbands? Just wondering?

Chris A

Sue Hepworth said...

No. it didn't, Chris. It was my own thought unprompted.

Anonymous said...

Phew! Was wondering if we'd locked horns on a forum recently! However, you will be glad to know I've plugged your books on said forum...

Chris a

Sue Hepworth said...

That's fantatstic! Thanks, Chris!