Rediscovering the 'Me' in 'Mumeeeeeee'

'I have always thought that there is no more fruitful source of family discontent than a housewife’s badly-cooked dinners and untidy ways'. (Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management, 1861)

August 10, 2010

Who needs the Riviera anyway?

I recline my lounger a little further and close my eyes. The late-afternoon sun is the perfect temperature; not so intense that you can’t properly relax and are checking to see whether you’re going pink every five minutes, and yet still an hour or two away from needing an extra layer.

Ahhh, bliss. I grab my sunglasses and my book and get stuck back into the heroine’s adventures in Rome. I'm indulging in some holiday reading while I can. The boys are completely immersed in their game in the pool; jumping in, splashing each other with a football, climbing out and jumping in again. Their squeals of delight are infectious; perfect background noise to this idyllic setting. They run up to me occasionally for a sip of their drink and then they’re off again (they know better than to try the old ‘let’s splash mum while she isn’t looking’ trick).

Starting to feel a little hot myself, I sit up, put my book down and take a long drink from the cold beer I have on standby. Delicious and who cares that it’s a Tuesday afternoon!

I recline my chair again and watch the few fluffy clouds idly drifting along in the otherwise perfectly blue sky above and follow a plane for as far as I can see it’s vapour trail. I wonder where it's heading? I like to think it’s somewhere exotic like Fiji or Hawaii (I don't know if it’s even going in the right direction for either of those places, but I can imagine anyway). I close my eyes.

I'm just starting to nod off when a bell rings. It takes a second or two for me to realise it’s my doorbell. I throw on my cardi and rush to the door. It’s the gas man come to read the meter. He needs me to unlock the side gate.

“Fabulous day,” he says.

“Gorgeous,” I reply.

He takes the reading and I lock the gate behind him. A cloud temporarily blocks out the sun. The boys have grown tired of the paddling pool. “We’re getting cold mummy. What’s for tea?”

And with that, my little slice of imaginary holiday heaven dissolves in front of my very eyes. Ah well, it was lovely while it lasted and at least the washing’s dry.



  1. Sounds gorgeous. You have a pool too, which in my book is the height of decadence. Our neighbours have one and I keep thinking of ways to make friends and then descend on them with my girls. Shame the gas man game over, mind you in true Jilly Cooper style he could have been a 20 something male model who just had to ravish you on the sunlounger. Or maybe not. Right must go and do some ironing or something mundane.

  2. i had about 5 minutes of that earlier. I almost went inside to cook the tea, but the feeling of the sun was SO nice for 5 minutes, that I sat and loved it until my 2 children tried to jump on the sun lounger with me. Ahh. I haven't felt the sun on my face for WEEKS!!! Sometimes Ireland is just too freakin drizzly.

  3. I've been looking at a sky like that for the past few days. I love daydreaming and looking at the clouds too, glad you're getting some sunshine. x

  4. Given that it's raining and freezing here, I had a little holiday while I read your post.

  5. We have had rain and dull days, I could do with some sun!

  6. And that is my definition of heaven in the UK - day when the washing dries on the line. (How sad is that?)

  7. Sounds like the boys had a great 'holiday' too! The sun makes such a difference to our lives. (Sadly, as we don't see it very often, which explains why so many folk in our wonderful isles go around looking perpetually depressed).


Blog Widget by LinkWithin