Broken- my word of the week

It’s that week. You know the one I mean. The one where everything is broken. Amazing how it circles round. Its orbit may vary. Cropping up every year or two. Or less. It hangs around for anywhere between a week or even a month. This week, it is with us. Just like the proverbial bad penny, it always turns up eventually. The time when if it can be broken, it will.

The list

As I’m sure you can already anticipate, the main culprits are the car and boiler. We’ve also had a broken front door (fixed now), a flooding washing machine (also now fixed) and a light bulb blew too, so we are ticking all the usual boxes.

The boiler is old and we’re hoping to keep it going until we find a more eco friendly solution to heat house and water. It is an old friend who we understand well. We usually sort it out ourselves but this time we called someone in. I spent most of the morning tidying the utility area, so they had easy access. They fixed it, left and within an hour it was broken again. Hmm. Back to square one. We’ve a part on order.

The car is booked into a garage. It’s not our usual one. Like so many smaller, well established businesses around here, they’re not taking employees on and cutting back on work. It seems to be a common pattern. Anyway, our job is too big, so we have to go elsewhere. Fortunately we have use of another car, so not all is lost.

The rest

Our hens are up to full egg laying capacity again. Over the winter, they moult and take a well deserved rest, so not a lot of eggs to be had. As soon as the days start to lengthen, they’re back laying eggs.

Amazingly, over the years, I’ve broken very few eggs on the way back to the kitchen. I learnt early on not to carry them in pockets. Usually I have a basket, a hastily grabbed, empty flower pot or just carry them in my hands. This week, I misjudged it. First day that all four hens laid an egg and I tried to carry them in one hand. I dropped one and there was a dull thud as it hit the floor. Even worse after weeks of no eggs.

Anyway, we are now at the point that my feathery friends are laying enough eggs to send a box over to the neighbours, which is undoubtedly one of my favourite things to do.

Less broken

This week, we’ve also had parents evening. I don’t know about other schools, but ours are still on line. We have five minutes with a sudden cut off at the end. Makes for some fast talking, especially when at 20 seconds, the teacher asks me if I have any questions. Then the next teacher pops up and we repeat the process. It is our last one with nine teachers to see. Next year, Youngest will go down to three subjects and a different parents evening experience. Will I miss it? Probably not. It is exhausting.

(He is doing very well.)

Both Youngest and Middle Teen went to London, this week, as part of their art courses. It was a long day for them and strange to have no one home at the usual time. The coach driver took a detour to show them a few sights of London, which went down well with everyone.

(They enjoyed the art gallery and museums too)

Youngest is off on a school trip over half term. He has a long kit list, so I’ve been busy sourcing as much second hand as possible. I’m particularly pleased with the second hand ski jacket and goggles I found. Not to be left out, I found a lovely cheese dome for myself too. Photo at the top. Truth be told I don’t need a cheese dome, but I do love a dome to cover cakes and biscuits, so that our tall hound doesn’t snaffle them all.

(And this one is so pretty to boot!)

Wednesday was the teacher strike day, so both children were home and our Uni girl had no lectures either, although she’s obviously not here. They have 18 dates on the calendar, compared to the four for school. Fortunately she only missed one lecture that day and she can catch up on it.

Knitting

My second pair of socks are taking a bit longer. They are two sizes bigger than the first pair, which should explain it. I’ve broken the back of the first sock and turned the heel. Psychologically it always feels like the half way point. I’m cracking on with this sock and have almost reached the toes.

I realised that my sock yarn complements my kilt, which is another second hand purchase this week. Shame that the socks are not going to be my size, although it might also be a blessing, as too much of a good thing, might just be too much.

“Why a kilt?”, I hear you ask. I love Scottish dancing, but there aren’t many opportunities near me, so the skirt is purely for warmth. It’s a vintage, 100% wool, oversized kilt from Pringles and perfect for our old draughty cottage, which had no heating last week. I’m looking forward to wandering round the garden in my kilt, this spring. I love the quirkiness of it.

That’s my week. Joining in with Anne’s word of the week linky. Hope you are all having a good weekend. I’m off to plant a few more bulbs in the garden.