Bleach be with you

After the kids had gone to bed last night, I summoned up the energy to tackle the bathroom mold. Grim. The intention was, to remove potential distractions for when the time comes that I'm able to get on with my backlog of college assignments. If all the lingering household jobs were out of the way, then I'd have no excuses not to sit down, and just get on with it. (Well that was the logic behind spending an hour and a half last night, standing on a stool, scrubbing rank mold off the upper walls and ceiling. Removed similar from the boys' room window surround also – oh how I dream of a warm, dry house)!

Had a much needed shower before retiring to my lovely, damp pallet bed – the walls adjacent to it being particularly wet at this time of year. Tried to flick my way through some back issues of Vitality Matters and Cornish World, in an attempt at doing some research, but couldn't keep my eyes open. Another 'must do' in the coming month. Think it's probably around about now that I should be experiencing a major panic I think. How the fuck am I going to get all the work done that I need to, within the deadlines? Trouble brewing up ahead. Storm clouds assembling now. Definite foreboding in the air.

The last thing I needed to hear tonight, which I did, was Terry telling me that he's now not taking the kids to his mum and dad's, for a belated Christmas celebration, after all. Brilliant. I'd scheduled in those three precious days to make a dent in my work. So now I'm going to have to spend that time holiday entertaining instead. Bloody marvellous. Not their fault – must be disappointing for them to be lunched out, yet again. But incredibly frustrating for me. Says they're going on Saturday now, which is useless for Eddie and Rosie because they'll want to come straight back down again the very next day for New Year's Eve. Great.

All my exertions last night, meant that I slept in. Needed it, as still feeling pretty tired. Had hoped to call by Wendy's, check out her new place in Newlyn, but being short on time, had to head straight over to Geevor to meet up with Graham and Rory for midday. Prepared a very ordinary picnic, and were only ten minutes late, so that's quite good for me.

At last summer's Heamoor school fete I'd won a family ticket to the museum there, and had been saving it up to take Rory along, as all mine had been there before, but I knew he hadn't. So it's not exactly Alton Towers, but we had a nice enough time. The mini tour underground is always interesting, and it was a fairly educational way of passing a few hours. Had the weather been better, we could've gone for a bracing cliff-path walk. But it wasn't.

However, upon my suggestion, we ended up at the Plen-an-Gwary in St Just, to test out Rory's new Xmas present from us – a croquet set. Ok, so it was raining, and the grass was way too long, but it was still a hoot. My classy game play saw me winning, of course. Got soaked in the process though. Toyed, briefly with the idea of going to the pub for a warm up, but decided to go home and get changed instead. Graham and Rory were already booked to go to Nanny June's anyway. Never felt so peripheral/excluded in my life. Would be nice to be invited over, just once, with the kids. Hate not existing.

Back at the pad, we found some dry clothes, sat in front of our pathetic gas fire, and played a game of Nominations – all of us except Rosie that is, who's off gallivanting around being sociable somewhere, possibly Amy's, as she's having a party at her house tonight. (And Rosie was on the phone for nearly 3hrs last night, talking to some boy called Max. Ooooooh!)

Band practise cancelled tonight as too many people can't make it – doesn't bode well for our gig on the 5^th, but to be honest, I wasn't really in the mood anyway. Graham's asked us around to keep them company, but again, am not really in the mood. Will go though as Billy's keen. Won't stay long, as Lucy wants to stay here, and I quite fancy coming back relatively early to watch City of the Gods (turning into a telly addict)! But more importantly, to get a proper night's sleep, and maybe try and do some writing first thing tomorrow morning. It's a thought.