Get up, get girls up, watch as porridge boils over in the microwave. Clear up (ish), find drinks, get dressed. Find school bags, write in school books, brush assorted hair, fur and teeth, using mostly the right brushes for each. Coats on, non-school supplies extracted from bags, all ready for the bus.
Bus comes, two girls kissed and loaded. One empty, blissfully peaceful, house. And one beautiful empty day to enjoy. One computer all my own, all emails read, happy surfing without needing to defend the mouse from would-be CBeeBee-watcher. A little catching up, a little drifting, a cheese scone buttered. And just thinking about that perfect solitary drink, and pleasantly dithering between tea and coffee, knowing that both will be possible over the course of the day, potentially more than once.
A distant beeping; a delivery truck which sounds a little like the school bus. No parcels due; must be for someone else. And then a knock at the door. Oo, has that book made it from the States, or is it maybe medical supplies again? Hope it's the book, how perfect would that be for this wonderful empty day?
One bus driver, hacked off, and one small child, dejected. INSET day, no school for Little Fish. Oops!
Oh well, it was nice while it lasted. Excuse me; I'm writing this on the phone as my computer is no longer my own. And we are apparently off out to choose new paint for bedroom walls.