Sorry for the week of silence. Since Monday I've mostly been slumped in front of the computer, reading about the riots and getting steadily more depressed by both the violence and the kneejerk reactions on each side of the political spectrum. I don't really drink much any more, but if I did I'd have taken a drink every time some pontificating muppet said "Bring back National Service" or "Take away their benefits!" The petition to take away rioters' benefits is making me crazy - we shouldn't need to make up special, new, extra-nasty punishments for these people, and in any case I think it's horrifying to create punishments that can only apply to the poorest rioters. The hand wringing about "see what happens when you take away the kids' youth centre" is just as far wide of the mark (though I do worry about the Sure Start cuts, because I think we need to be there for kids from the beginning if anything is going to change). If someone is so detached from their community that they can cheerfully smash it up, there's more wrong than just having nothing to do in the summer. I believe the ConDems are doing serious harm with their spending cuts, but social inequality in this country goes way beyond the current austerity measures.
ANYWAY. I'm trying to avoid thinking about this because it's getting me down, so end rant and move on.
I went out for a meal and drinks with some of my mummy friends on Saturday night, and really enjoyed myself (despite the cheeky bugger who, hearing that we were a group of mums, asked me whether I'd had my baby yet. I know I'm fat but I do not look pregnant!). I hardly ever go out in the evening and I don't think I'd realised how much I was missing it. I had three whole beers! Talk about living it up. I delighted the Spanish bartender by drinking Mahou, a lager made in Madrid. It wasn't entirely my kind of beer, but nice enough. I almost dropped out at an early stage, because the bar we were in was too noisy for a proper conversation, but we moved on and ended up sitting outside having a great chat. A taxi home turns out to cost around £18, which I certainly can't afford every week but is less expensive than I feared. Hoping to do it again soon.
Batgran is coming up this weekend (sorry Mum, I can't resist), which will be nice. We need to do some serious tidying today and tomorrow so that we can make her up a bed on the living room floor, since Bat now has the second bedroom. Characteristically, I'm ignoring the tidying and thinking instead about what I might make us for dinner on Saturday night. It's all right though, Owl will be home soon and I can make him do it! Though I've now dreamt two nights in a row that he's planning to leave me, so perhaps I shouldn't - maybe my subconscious is telling me that I'm a rubbish wife.
In other news, I'm trying to get back into fiction writing, with a short story and a longer project in the works (I can't say the word "novel" at this point, I've only just started and it feels like tempting fate). The short story is about a luxury wallpaper designer who casts spells on her distinguished clients, and it's shaping up OK. I've also registered on that OU course I was wailing about a few weeks ago - Batgran very generously stumped up half the course fees so I can do it after all. It's a creative writing course, it starts in October and I'm excited already.