Of seats and staying home.

Life with Little Fish becomes infinitely more bearable and even enjoyable if we are able to leave the house on a regular basis. Inside, she is a vortex of destruction. Outside she becomes interested in the world around, friendly greeter of strangers and suspicious starer at dogs. So we aim to spend as much of the holiday outside as possible.

It was unfortunate then that yesterday we needed to stay in all day to take delivery of this:
This will be Little Fish's new stationary seat for eating at tables. I was told it was a "nice little chair". I remain unconvinced. It definitely doesn't compare to our first choice, a Samba. Ah well. It's a Jenx Bee and I'm sure someone somewhere loves it. The rep will be out to fit it for her at some point in September, until then it can join our ocean of clutter stockpile of temporarily unuseable equipment.

The house meanwhile has suffered for our presence. Our cleaner quit on us on the first week of the school holidays - sensible lady. We have a temporary replacement who is very useful but does not have the same cleanability that our previous one had -having run a successful large B and B for many years she had gained the ability to give everything the "once over" in double quick time.*

As we waited in for yesterday's delivery we took a phone call. Mog's new off-roader was ready and would be delivered today. Excellent, another day sitting at home. Just what we needed. It's a bit prettier than the Bee though. And we could definitely have done with it last week - I've not had to de-mud a wheelchair with a pair of tentpegs before.

To this general clutter add the contents of a wet camping trip. Those nine loads of laundry scattered across the sunroom. Damp bags and stoves etc steaming gently in the kitchen, soggy tins rusting drying out before being replaced in the bus. Umpteen towels draped and drying. Add to this yesterday's washing up, and various assorted bits of extra chaos.

Take one large cardboard box and umpteen bits of packaging. Spread liberally across the hallway, combine with one child testing out the buggy and a second smaller child doing what she can to help by emptying drawers.

Hear one knock at the door, and open it in anticipation of our temporary cleaner/laundrywoman extraordinaire/children's entertainer. Instead discover one physiotherapist with a forgotten appointment.

Oops.
Tia

* We love you S and this is not in any way a criticism of the things you do; my house would be drowning in crisps and laundry if it weren't for you!