It’s 5 a.m. on a Sunday morning and I’m up! In my household, this is unheard of. I’m always the last to rise, partly through laziness and partly because I use the excuse of doing occasional night shifts as a reason to ‘need to catch up’ or prepare myself for the next one. I used to get insomnia quite often but sheer exhaustion seemed to have put paid to it. I used to enjoy it occasionally, as it was always the best time to write. But my worry now is that after a gloriously sunny half term break, I can feel the banished eye-bags I gained evaporating before my still-tired eyes.
Maybe it’s because I didn’t take my usual combination of antihistamines last night. They’ve been keeping me from an existence that would otherwise involve conversations staccatoed with sneezes, with a nose pouring like Victoria Falls and the most un-get-at-able itch at the back of the throat. It really is the most harmless but irritating of conditions and the doctor won’t give me the cure-all antihistamine jab I had during my school exams – something about side effects. So each year I sprinkle pollen on my cereal or try to source local honey & tinker with tinctures on the ‘natural remedy’ shelves, and then resort to a combination of proper pills. But they always make me dopey, despite the promised ‘non-drowsy’ label on the packet and especially when combined with the odd seasonal spritzer or Pimms… But last night I forgot.
Well, the pills are still packed somewhere as we’ve been away for a few days. So maybe it’s because it’s been so warm lately and we’ve got all the windows open. I’m also pre-occupied with the fact we now have just one day of the holiday left to do some promised jobs around the house: treat the decking outside, paint the chalk wall onto the chimney breast in the boys’ bedroom, dismantle the spare, oversized, double bed in preparation for the new single but stackable ones that are due to be delivered later this week and clear away yet more stuff into the garage.
Or maybe it’s because I went to bed spellbound by Spelbound’s performance on Britain’s Got Talent last night. They may not be able to spell (I expect there’s a trademark reason why they can’t have Spellbound as their title - oh, I just found out it's because tey're from Spelthorne) but boy can they gymnasticate! And the suggestion that they might open the London 2012 Olympic games ceremony made me quite proud to be British. My only talent is flaring my nostrils but what a great show a ‘Best of…’ BGT would be!
But perhaps it’s because I’m processing all the things we did over half term – visiting Legoland with friends we haven’t seen for two years and then having them round for a rowdy takeaway. We agreed that the best part of Legoland was Miniland, where someone or some people have spent hours building replica cities out of Lego pieces with incredible patience. The same theme emerged when we traveled to Lancashire to visit relatives, and a part of the country, that we visit far too infrequently.
One of the places we explored there was a stately home owned by the Gillow family who were renowned furniture makers. The tour guide told us that part of the lure of a Gillow piece was that it always had an extra use or a secret function. So a sewing storage unit would be made of sandalwood to keep moths away from the fabric and had secret drawers in it. A children’s games table had a reversible lid on it for chess or chequers. The dining room table was the first ever telescopic design, so it could be altered to seat 22 rather than 10. The card table was hexagonal with fold-down flaps to push down, indicating that you were out of the game. And the wood, usually mahogany, was always beautifully turned with ornate legs and designs. I reckon if Richard Gillow visited our plasticized, disposable Tesco-filled homes these days, he’d be horrified.
Talking of the environment, what about the oil that’s still gushing into the Atlantic? It’s been leaking for nearly six weeks now. Seeing the television pictures of oiled sea birds is horrifying. How much pollution can one ocean take before the whole seafood chain becomes poisoned?
So if we could just solve that problem, cure the common cold and hay fever, get together with friends and family more often, practice our obesity-busting flick-flacks and use our design skills to better effect, the world would be a better place - and I could get some sleep.
But I’m off to get the Sunday papers now so I’m sure that will generate more food for thought!
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