The children are on holiday which always make for an interesting dynamic: There’s the eternal conflict between my projects and their needs which sometimes overlap…but not always.  The mornings are usually my time to write, organise and plan whilst they learn to squeeze every ounce from the fruit of boredom. Which sounds desirable, except Charlie, like a heat seeking missile has the unfailing knack of finding me just at the most concentration-needed moment.  Yesterday I was writing a letter to Building Control (he’s here right now..spooky) and there he was at the study door. ‘No!’ I said, holding up my hand, ‘not a step further…do not say a word…you have to give me ten minutes.’

‘But Mummy…’

‘No..I have to get this done NOW. I cannot speak to you’

‘But Mummy…’

‘What part of no am I not making clear? I will not speak to you..yet you are forcing me to speak to you..so I am now getting cross and feeling like a hamster in a wheel because we’ve had thIS same conversation SO many times.  Except now the hamster is dead..no no.I didn’t really say that – ignore me..it’s just I don’t want to formulate words to you, I want them for this – I need to sound like a rational human being. GO!’

‘But Mummy..I don’t want to speak to you..I want to look in this mirror and see how cool I look…’

Hole. Ground. Open up.

Todays project is a crossover and one for all of us….to tidy up Charlie’s room…which looks like a nuclear war zone. If I were Olga Kostina living in Kamarchaga in the Siberian Taiga his rubbish would probably provide the most wonderful creative outlet. Her work with 30,000 bottle tops is sheer genius.

Except I’m not.

Blood could be spilt.

Laters, Kate x