Smug

This evening I am feelimg rather pleasantly smug. My floors are clean (thank you, Scooby), my sitting room is clean, my laundry mountain is a molehill and the clean clothes are all put away. There is no washing up left in the sink, the girls are both asleep, the cats are all fed, and Little Fish and I both had real live fruit and vegetables as part of our evening meal. We only have four extra pints of milk in the 'fridge, there are biscuits in the tin and the medicine cabinet is fully stocked.

We have a new plan for Mog's feed, Little Fish's nuerosurgeon called to say the shunt unravelling in her peritoneum is normal and nothing to worry about, we have a call in to Mog's neurologist about her spasm, and all our extra medicines have been ordered. We have a week without hospital appointments, I have remembered to send in sufficient supplies to school, and my only medical task at the moment is to sit and wait for letters and phonecalls to arrive.

Little Fish's wheels have made it to the wheelchair spare parts man; the tyres he thought he'd found will be no good but he is hopeful that a working pair will be with him shortly, and that LF's wheelchair will therefore be back with us by Friday, so available for us to take on holiday on Monday. I have requested a respite session from the hospice, spoken to a friend and posted some important documents. I have also discovered HMRC may owe me a tidy sum of money, I've had some potentially exciting news, and our Guide meeting was actually fairly excellent despite missing 1.5 leaders.

All in all, a pretty excellent, tick lots of things off the list kind of a day.

And as I write this, I realise I forgot to book an inco supply collection, missed a small but important drug off the repeats request, forgot to buy cat litter or holiday fish pellets, and forgot yet again to get the right batteries for the doorbell. Best not to get too smug then!
Tia