A Fraught Sunday

I left my phone at Scoff's. Hate to say admit, but it felt weird, a missing companion and I kept wanting to pick up. A machine that has insinuated itself into my life through my need. An essential item which has become more than an accessory. A necessity. I'll have to detox when I finish the house. And the blog. If ever. 

I've got my fingers crossed. Scoff stumbles out of the bed he's just got into. He calls and the phone rings, buried beneath a pile of party paraphenalia. I'm relieved. Replacing it would have been an unforeseen financial extra. Another personal motto, when looking for a lost item, lift stuff. I call on Greg at the Tannery to give him cash for his trip up the coast. Forget to take a blog pic. He's busy framing, his next friend favour, hanging framed pics in my house. A willing and generous friend I don't want to take advantage of. 

I get Kahu out of bed, probably too early for his new nocturnal routine. At the house he tidies up a cardboard box. It's clear he's tired and it's not long before we have an argument. I'm unsettled about the square ducting grills which are clearly visible and spoil the ceiling. I've been working so hard to get the details looking good I get a bee in my bonnet. I know I'll have to learn to not see them but I don't know if I can. I look at the dining table and notice the Bollicine chandelier is not centred over it. I had moved its position, can't remember if it was further into the room or towards the window but the chandelier needs moving. As does the control panel for the ducting system, and the light switch beside it. I walk into my room and Kahu tells me I should change the position of my bed. In the middle of it all, Suzanne drops in with a sympathy sunflower which I plant by the garage.

By mid afternoon I've got myself in a state of overwhelm and needing to give Kahu detailed instructions just to keep him doing things does my head in. We have a spat and he walks home. I tidy up feeling like I've failed as a mother and an interior decorator. In fact I'm dog tired. I need a change of  perspective. I need to move in. I need to forget the relatively small stuff and I need more variety in my life. On the way home I remember I've forgotten to go to Robyn's flax event at the Arts Centre. Biff, Chris's mum, comes to dinner, cheerful as ever.