Briefly

Big fat fail on the daily blogging front.  I was going to use the world going to Hell in a handbasket as an excuse, but the truth is I was just very busy.  Apart from the emotional turmoil of the day (including  spending an inordinate amount of time reading online European newspapers, and a similar length of time debating whether or not to filter my FB profile with the Tricolore [the cynic in me thought Fuck You Facebook, jumping on the bandwagon of grief and disgust; the normal rational person thought Fuck You Isis, you bunch of murderous thugs]), it was Saturday, which demands prolonged drinking of loose-leaf English Breakfast tea and reading of English Breakfast newspapers on the balcony.  (THIS was the true reason for neglecting my blogging duties.) 

We then spent a hugely pleasant child-free afternoon battling our way through the market stalls of Little India, with the aim of buying some traditional outfits for a Deepavali party (which was fabulous) last night.  Sitting there, eating dhal-soaked dosa in a very authentic Indian cafe (so authentic that I found myself having flashbacks to my back-packing days and instinctively wondering if this was the meal which would ruin my trip) we had a light-bulb moment:  Why do we not do this every Saturday?  For some reason we  - I – feel guilted into spending every second of the weekend with the kids, doing *stuff*, keeping them busy and active and (mainly) exhausted.  When really, we should be leaving them at home with our maid and a movie, while we go and potter about in interesting corners of this very interesting place.    And so that is the new Saturday plan.  I’m rather pleased with it.  In fact I’m so excited for next weekend that  I’m practically making self  a calendar to cross off the days.

CAT UPDATE:  The new kitty litter is dreadful and manages to not only NOT cover up the smell of cat urine (uuuuuugh) but in fact to accentuate it.  Let me tell you, cat pee is not a smell which requires accentuation.  FFS.  Also, I have just fed them  some of the tinned cat food I was conned into buying by the pet-shop people (“Oh yes, the more expensive the better”).  They shrieked with joy (the cats, not the pet shop people; they didn't, but ought to have done).  I’m just hoping that the new kitty litter can cope.