Week Twenty Two

Lads I promise I wasn't being the boldest girl in Ireland yesterday, but my interweb was on the blink again and I couldn't get into my blogger account. Anyway you can't be mad at me, seeing as I'm now a cripple. Read on...

Monday 1st March

Christ. The fella in the first room's mother is back. Every time I go to cook something she is down there taking up all four hob rings and generally giving me ire. And she doesn't just spend a half an hour cooking up the lunch either - oh no. She is down there milking the cow to churn the butter to fry the onions with like.

Every night I make scones to eat for our breakfast the next morning. Today I went to put them in the oven and surprise surprise - there she is. Then she has the cheek to offer me some helpful advice.

"No you put them on the other shelf."

Now lads. If you want to give me ire, just try and tell me how to cook my own food. I am the scone master, noone beats me in the scone stakes like.

Then she went on to ask me what kind of pre-packaged pastry I used for them!

I gave her the laser death stare.

"I make everything from scratch." Laser death beam gaze.

Then I had to go down the room and bang a few saucepans around.

No like, just no.

Tuesday 2nd March

You know the way they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach? Well it's true!

One day, shortly after BBB came back from his Chirstmas holidays he was sitting at his desk when he did a big dramamtic sigh.

"I miss Mamma." he goes. No surprises there, seeing as this is an entire nation of Mammy's Boys.

"Aw, why's that?", I goes.

"I miss her cooking and her bringing me snacks."

Now I don't know what happened, but that flicked a switch deep inside me and since then I have been plying him with home baked goods and top notch dinners. I think I'm actually addicted to feeding him. Every time I put a plate down in front of him he looks up at me with these puppy dog eyes and goes "I love you." No really, every time.

There is something so satisfying about watching a man eat. I love it!

"You spoil me girl," he says every time I put a plate of something fresh baked in front of him (after he says he loves me).

"Will I stop?", I usually answer.

"Christ, no!" says he, "Pass the jam, please."

Even considering how much I spoil him, he hasn't turned into spoilt shithead. In fact I have found that the more I spoil him, the more I become his queen.

This pleases me.

Wednesday 3rd March

Every night we fall asleep in the same position and then during the night I break away for some Jennie time and then in the morning when the alarm goes off he pulls me in for a five minute snuggle before we have to get up. This morning was no different.

Drrrrrrrrring! Drrrrrrrring!

"C'mere you til I snuggle the head off ya!" he goes.

And then proceeds to pull me into him, while simultaneously bending his knee. Why like, just why? Why on earth would you pull your girlfriend into you while bending your knee?

The obvious result was that he kneed me square in the gooter (pronounced "gew-thor"). As a good friend Jac would say "I didn't get a knee in the fanny since school."

It's still tender.

Thursday 4th March

For the last few weeks, every time I go for a run my hip hurts me. I thought I was just working some deep down muscles but now I feel something more sinister is at work. On Monday night as usual my hip was hurting me, but I didn't think anything of it. On Tuesday and Wednesday I stayed at home doing a bit of work, plus it was raining so I wasn't too bothered going outside. But today I ventured out to go into town and Christ! The pain!

I started off walking and I could feel a little niggle, five steps later I was limping like a leper. It's not a sharp kind of a pain, it's an aching pain, and more than anything the frustration of it is driving me crazy. It is just there.

I feel like I want to either feel the pain or not feel it. I don't want this kind of presence. It's like a shadow or something lurking in there, driving me nuts. I feel like I need someone to break my hip or pop it or something. I am fairly close to doing it myself, to be honest.

Since then anyway I have been doing extreme to the max yoga hoping that in some crazy stretch position it might pop or something. Me nerves!

Friday 5th March

Today I limped into Laura's and we did some fun activities including baking some amazing lemon and blueberry breakfast bread. I brought a loaf home for myself and BBB and when I got back to the house I was emptying the contents of my bag out onto the bed, just organising myself a bit. The next thing BBB bursts in:

"There she is! Come here to me you!" and scoops me up and starts swinging me around and then he plonked himself down on the bed with me in his arms.

A distinct squashing noise could be heard.

"Get. Up. Now."

He got up and we turned around to look at the bed. Sure enough, the cake was as flat as a pancake. It was in one of those disposable baking tins that's like the chinese box you get a 3-in-1 in. Needless to say it was completely concertina-ed.

If it wasn't so funny I would have murdered him.

"Jesus look at it!" I goes, peeling back the lid.

"God yeah, we should definitely eat it all now," he goes.

"I think you might be right", says I, "just to be sure like".

Om nom nom.

Saturday 6th March

Had a nice day today gettin up to various fun activities and in the night BBB headed off to Switzerland to see some car show. He was dying for me to go with him but I would literally rather he die than me have to go to a car show.

Harsh but true. I wouldn't drag him around a knitting show like.

Actually that's a lie. I totally would.

Sunday 7th March

I had a lovely day all to myself with BBB gone to Switzerland for the day. I indulged in various bidet-related activities and watched 47 thousand episodes of Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy.

Then I hobbled to the supermarket and then I came home and did some extreme yoga. Exciting stuff, I hear you say.

BBB came back from Switzerland around 9.

"Jesus I missed you!" he goes.

"Sit down there boy and have the last scone", says I.

"Ah I couldn't, that's yours," he said.

"I kept it for you."

"Ah you're the best, you're always spoiling me. I love you."

It's good to be queen.