Garsington

It was absolute madness in a bottle.  I was meant to be jet-lagged.  Sarah expecting twins at any moment.  And Robert running about being successful club-owner/expectant father/house renovator.  And yet every night since I arrived in the quiet village of Garsington, all three of us were up until one or two in the morning.  Doing what? Rummaging mainly.  Drinking cups of tea in dressing gowns.  Organising stuff in the wee hours.

Halfway through my visit we moved house. Across the road and up a bit.  So one night I was in my usual guest bed in one house, and the next night I was in exactly the same bed across the road.  All of our belongings magically re-appearing at the new house.

I even found myself making up my dance class at 5:30am in the morning.  Typing out emails.  Making endless lists of projects for the house in Oxford.  During the day I would spend my time between the house and catching up with friends.

I think when you see black scuff marks on your walls, drips of tea and red wine in the kitchen, blackened, mouldy taps in the bathroom and guk you cannot identify in the corner - then you know you are in for a fun week of cleaning.  Don't even get me started on the kitchen ceiling (possibly a pancake Sunday gone horribly wrong?).

On Tuesday it looked like a student house. John Belushi would have been proud.  By yesterday it looked like our family home again.  I found one of the boys' old plastic frogs in a dead pot plant and put it in pride of place on some bricks.  A little welcome for the new tenants.  I also cleaned the house to within an inch of its life.  And left garden flowers in glass jars here and there.  A little reminder to the new tenants that I have a standard (see County Living magazine) and I expect it to stay that way.

I am writing this in Brunei Airport. A place I hope I never have to see again, only because four hours in a tiny airport is not that stimulating, especially having travelled for 16 hours already.  So if you find me ranting with an air of madness in this blog there is a good chance I have already lost the plot.