Talked to my son who is now living in a remote, cold garret in the Cold North, with no heating and little insulation, as the icy wind howls around the roof tiles and creeps into his cavernous, freezing room.
What? you think I am over egging it a bit? well perhaps, but the main problem remains that one of my babies is COLD and I cannot do anything to help.
To be fair he has probably forgotten the conversation we had earlier on, but since about 9,30 this morning I have been worrying how to help my temperature-challenged offspring. Still, 3 hours of scouring the internet for every type of heater, and places that sell them & I think I am finally calming down a bit.
His brother (luxuriating in university halls of residence, so no heating problem there!) seems fine. Which is good as I can only cope with one source of neurosis at a time (possibly a symptom of the menopause, because I'm sure I used to be able to multi-task my angsts).
Mother is fine too, although she had me up a wobbly ladder in church today as the Harvest Festival ladies scattered apples, sweetcorn (from Tesco, not the local farm I suspect!) and pumpkins around ready for tomorrow. She is doing some research on the church and needed a second opinion on a wall plaque. After climbing up half a dozen steps and squinting through the cobwebs I confirmed that indeed it is a wall plaque.
Off to the theatre soon to see some comedy - part of my therapy - and hope that I am able to enjoy a good few belly laughs to celebrate the end of the first Crying Week.
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