Just like Old Times?

Bear has gone to Grandma and Grandad’s (Mr. Invisible’s parents), so we have some time to ourselves. Just like old times! We could do exactly what we like! We could go to a gallery and actually look at the artwork. We could take a stroll along the South Bank, stop at every watering hole on the way and then go for dinner or the cinema. Or we could just have a clear out. A lovely, soul-cleansing, cathartic, thorough clear out.

A couple of months ago, our nephew Ashford moved from his room on the first floor to the attic because Grandad (my Dad) was struggling with the extra flight of stairs. We wanted Ashford to have a lovely student den up there so we moved a load of stuff from the attic into our bedroom. Somehow, we haven’t done anything about it. Disgraceful!

Mr. Invisible decided to make a start in the cellar, while I tackled ‘the pile.’ This is a way of working together to promote the utmost harmony. A few boot sale boxes, recycling crates and bin bags later, I’ve made a huge sliding tackle of a start and we’ve had just the one disagreement. (Mr. Invisible thinks I won’t use my bike again as I haven’t used it in the last 10 years. I think it is my bike, so I will decide whether I will use it again or not when I have time to make such a weighty decision!)

Before Bear was born, we had stuff but not this amount and the stuff we had, we had time to keep tidy. So I see this as a bit of a new beginning, an opportunity to get back the tiniest bit of control.

So just like old times? Never again. Our lives have changed so completely, that it’s impossible to go back even for a weekend. We will enjoy a quiet dinner and glass of something this evening and a bit of a lie-in in the morning, thankful for the time together and that Bear is making memories with Grandma and Grandad.

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About Ms Invisible

I live in the gaps between words, the pauses in music, the invisible space between objects in a landscape. I am a stay-at-home mum. My dog helps me to get enough exercise and my cat keeps me in my place. None of these things have any status in modern western society and yet they are mine and I wouldn't change any of them. Mr. Invisible is the Dennis to my Margaret, the Del to my Raquel, the Fitzwilliam to my Elizabeth, the David to my Elton, the lucky man who shares my life.

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