A cold night babysitting

It was really very cosy under my lovely rug last evening. My, but it was a cold night! Upstairs it is reasonably warm, with the thatch sitting on top of the little cottage like a tea cosy, but downstairs it is a different matter. Being such an old house, with no foundations, the cold seeps up from the ground and turns your feet and legs into pillars of ice. There is a wood burning stove in the other room, but to be honest, I’m nervous about lighting it; it used to be Dennis’ job. On the odd occasions when I have dared to light it, when I’ve had visitors or the family have been here, I’ve been awake half the night afterwards worrying in case it hadn’t gone out properly and, in any case, most of the logs he left in the lean-to - still quite a pile of them, shows how rarely I have lit the fire - need chopping smaller and I’m not all that happy about wielding an axe. I did ask Miles once, but he turned them into kindling. He likes you to see he's very strong. He has a personal trainer, you know.  

Anyway, as I was saying, with my lovely new rug and with my hot cushion squeezed comfortingly between my knees, I was very cosy. I wasn’t very relaxed though and I quite missed what the lovely Stephen Fry had to say on the subject of language, because he's very clever and you  do have to listen very carefully, don't you - never mind not having got to grips properly with Coronation Street earlier.  Sandy had popped out after she had put Genny to bed, to some sort of fund-raising do that some woman she met through Bedales was having - not sure what it was for; I don’t think she  ever said.  They live in a fabulous house, Sandy says; seven bathrooms, twenty-two acres and a swimming pool! I must go and have a peep at it from the road sometimes. She felt she really ought to go as she was staying very close at hand.

I had wondered what the beautiful midnight blue evening dress she had hung on the back of the bedroom door was for, I'd kept meaning to ask her; it seemed an odd thing to bring with her for a couple of days in the country with me.

I didn’t mind at all, of course, very happy for her to go, though it did mean that I had to keep one ear open and make several trips to peer round the bedroom door just to make sure Genny  was sleeping soundly, so I didn't sleep very well.  It's especially hard to switch off  when you are  responsible for somebody else's child, harder than it is for your own. I often get quite worn out following after her, making certain she is all right.

Not, of course, that I mind.