A Truly Madly Ordinary Start Of The Summer Holidays

I sure did not expect to take a break that long, but in the end, it did worth me, 1001 followers.. Yes, you heard me, I worth more when I do not write than when I do. Of course, I am only joking, or at least I hope I am as basically spent these 29 days of absence from WP working on book number two, that should be out by autumn, and marketing and amending book number one. Hard to believe, even for me, I am shamefully still correcting typos in fields of lies. So not professional, so not my fault but so my mess!!!!
My only hope is that people won’t pay to much attention and get lost in the murderous and lusty life of the Irish countryside.
Thankfully I tend to learn from my mistakes and this time I change editor and proofreader, and right now the fantastic Jerry is working his magic on my manuscript.

Now that I explained my absence and showed off my 1000 followers, before sharing some of my latest adventures, I want to thank you all, my fantastic followers, to be with me on this journey.

June is the longest month of the year. By its second week, I start to have repulsion of anything related to school routine, but even this year we made it. We reached the last day of school, and I am so happy that I do not even bother to have to pickups the girls barely after I had dropped them. Our school has, in fact, the absurd rule that the last day before any holiday the finish at 1130. Over the years I got used to it but I still think that before any holidays they should keep them longer rather than shorter in school, and I know I am not the only one, but unfortunately, the bard of education doesn’t care what I think.
Anyway, two months homework, extra activities and the school run free worth an early pick up indeed, and so here I am happily parking when I suddenly feel an excruciating hitch on my legs. I look down and …….boom: the excruciate hitch is prevailed by a horrific noise of crumpled up metal. The travelling husband car’s metal, I guess. Never looking at your legs or even worse scratching them while reversing as lampposts can materialise out of nowhere.

When still in shock, I got out to asses the damage I realised that Shakespeare was right: “much ado about nothing”. I hit the pole with the bumper that has a big dent but being made of plastic, it won’t be either difficult or expensive to fix.
Still, I felt mortified and to make it worse, like he has superpowers, a few seconds after I finished to pick up the pieces of my backlight, the travelling husband rang.
“how do you know”…I blurbed out, and once again, my tongue is faster than my brain because unless he has the sight of Clarke Kant and can see me from Paris, he can’t possibly know. The poor man was calling to check on me and say he had safely landed.
“Well, honey, I had safely landed too, on a lampost “.
No, I didnt say that! But I could have, he is not fussy about cars, what he made a fuss about, instead, was my leg itchy rush and me not having had checked by the doctor yet.

By the time I get a doctor’s appointment, my rush is fading away, plus I know it is nothing but a food intolerance. What we do not know what it is, is instead a multitude of infected pustules that overnight exploded on daughter number one arms, close to a nasty wound she got herself falling un the yards.
She needed that doctor appointment more than I did.
Postillion Contagious, or something like that it is the diagnosis. A viral thing that wouldn’t even be treated if it was that she had scratched herself with dirty hands and got it infected. It usually goes in a couple of weeks the doc says, but because of her other wounds and because of the infection she ‘ll have to apply a cream four times a day and maybe antibiotic if the redness won’t go after a week of treatment.

Right, marvellous and four days before I had to drop them to Italy at my mom’s.

The day of the departure arrived. Packing the girls for the summer is easy, I usually throw in the bag anything summery they own and a big bottle of high protection suncream. This year we also had to throw in two huge tubes of Fumicid and two spare bottles of antibiotic. The most challenging bag is always mine. I ‘ll be there for one week, then back to Ireland for two weeks and then back to Italy for another two weeks. I must thunk at what I want to bring and leave, what I want to bring back and most of all I must pack something that it will be fresh, comfortable but up to Nona’s fashion standard.

Even this year we survived the preparatory grooming, the big packing, the delay of the plane and we are eventually queuing to board in all dressed accordingly with our little skin troubles.
I am wearing a long skirt hiding the leftover of my rush; daughter number two wears shorts because not even herself has flawless and unbroken skin anymore after getting a bad a tarmac burn on her knee whose scab keeps peeling off. Ultimately, daughter number one is wearing short sleeves and shorts because the pustules and the wounds on the arms have improved, but the cream is so greasy that all the areas where we applied it must be covered with bandages and the same the wounds on her shin.

The flight went well, but because of a turbulence we could not leave our seats for the last half of it, and by the time we landed, I was bursting.
The airport bathroom was like a vision of an oasis in the desert. But this oasis was closed for cleaning. Only the accessible loo was open, and the queue to access it was super long but very fast. Obviously, most of the women felt and care for the others and tried to be as quick as they could. So was I, super-fast, even because the girls were waiting for me at the belt.
The problem came when I tried to exit, and the door would not open. Something was blocking it from outside.
I tried to call for help, but nobody came.
I took my last chance and gave the door the most significant push ever with my shoulder. My shoulder still hurts, but the door opened enough for me to get out.
The cleaner was now cleaning in the corridor and left her trolley in front of the accessible toilet door, and she could not hear me calling for help because of her headphones.

A week later, I am back to the airport with the usual conjunctivitis I get in the heat and a pretty bad cystitis, my flight is delayed, but all the bathrooms are opened 🤓.