We have had a spell of things breaking down. No, nothing to do with the farm. Hisself has one thing or another in pieces on a permanent basis. Things that I need have broken down.
First of all daughters were clearing up and my single cup coffee maker mysteriously disappeared while the rubbish bag had sharp glass pieces peeking through the plastic. I should use the correct expression but as I cannot spell cafetier[?] to save my life lets just call it a coffee maker. Without my lunchtime decaf I am just not the person I should be. No replacement available in the local shops.
Then our aged bus busted the exhaust. That should not be a crisis call but as the DHL twice delivered the part to wrong address insisting it was where it should be, the new employee in the sending end messed up a couple of tries and in the end the wrong one of four choices finally arrived. We ended up without family wheels for a good fortnight. I was not happy, the children were not happy and Hisself was beside himself. I kept borrowing his car and adjusting his seat to a comfortable position for me. Tut, tut, tut.
So yesterday morning No5 and I were off to get the exhaust fixed and to do the shopping. "I have seen him do one in 7 minutes," said Hisself. "Come back in 45 minutes," said the guy and finally an hour and 40 minutes later we were back on the road. Not to shop but back to home as No5 was wanting an early milk bottle. I was somewhat rattled by the morning experience and with my usual [tactful] way let Hisself know where he could insert his seven minute exhaust change and an extra hour entertaining No5 with handful of rubble and passing traffic.
My feelings were obviously clear as when I returned from shops a replacement coffee maker had been ordered on-line.
Meantime a massive office clearing and remodelling is in progress. Not that I particularly want to spent my evenings shifting through piles of paper mixed with school work, toys and games. Maybe more to do with the telly turning pink. It gave a wonderful glow to people but the outdoor scenes were not quite the same. It should be repairable, maybe, sometime next week, or two. In the meantime the kids PlayStation mini telly is giving us access to news but I must admit that it is not fun. My eyesight is so poor that I either sit on the sofa and listen or sit on the floor, see the picture and paralyze my rear.
Do any of you remember the rubber rings that ended in the hand cleaner? The tub is now nearing the end and I obviously did not manage to get every ring out at the time. During the passing weeks they have swollen huge, giving now a doughnut like appearance. Despite the promising looks the play value is poor as the rubber has become brittle and they break easily. On the other hand it has been a fascinating experiment giving us plenty to talk about.
However it has not all been bad. We made an 800 mile round trip to see the girls that were adopted from the same place the same time as No5. All six of them were born within four months so they are much alike and now aged between 18 and 22 months. It was a rainy day, five sets of parents and six little girls [a set of twins included]. What a fantastic time we had. All the girls are generally reserved with adults but for that day they relaxed and any of us would do. Every now and again a small child appeared, asked to be picked up, got cuddles and wondered off. It was not always mine and I could see my girl climbing on strange knee for comfort - something she never did before or has not done after that day. Surprisingly they seemed to recognise each other. No5 and her cot sister gave each other very gentle cuddles and then spent a good half hour poking each other to the ribs and giggling. Despite us parents being very different our time in China brought us together and our children will have each other when they grow up and try to make sense of being transracially adopted across the globe. A rare gift indeed, especially as adoption numbers from China have been declining and most parents now travel alone.