Yesterday my parents came and fetched Owen at half four, then headed off to pick up Matilda from school and whisk the mini-beasts away for the night. They brought them back about 5pm today. Fanf had already left for a three day work trip on Tuesday morning.
That's 24 hours, or 1,440 minutes, or 86,400 seconds, or the first two seasons of Mad Men (with loo breaks... I was tempted) of freedom. And the mouse did play.
Last night I went along to a 3-hour theatre workshop. I was incredibly nervous. The lady from the theatre company (who I spent 6 months working with after Matilda's birth) warned me that these were amateurs, they wouldn't have my knowledge of the theatre. I explained to her, that I might well know a thing or two about the theatre but that I knew not a great lot about acting. Think Ralph Fiennes on a bad day. (Of course for that analogy to work you have to believe, to the core of your soul, that Ralph Fiennes has all the talent and charisma of a soggy sandwich. Like what I most wholeheartedly do. Ralph Fiennes - plank of wood - Ralph Fiennes - plank of wood, no, can't tell which is which.) Anyway, me being a bit nervous and a bit rubbish aside, it was fun.
Then I came home and slept like a big human splat sprawled across the bed. I do love you Fanf, but blimey I love to fill a double bed.
Today I have been working on a translation for Aurélie. Sipping tea, dunking biscuits, popping out to post a letter when I needed a break, eating hummous on toast at my desk so I don't break my concentration. A window into my past and the single life. A wonderful window but one that I was happy to close again when my sweet little mini-beasts came trotting home tonight. Though I would like to reserve the right to open the window again whenever I need a breath of fresh air.
When I'm on my own I feel like my senses are heightened, without the constant noise, mess and activity I can hear what's going on in my head and the world beyond the domestic has a chance to penetrate my eyes and ears. My favourite moment was wandering around Béziers in the balmy autumn dark, letting my thoughts drift along with my feet.