Wednesday, 17 May 2017
Jollity all round.
The three household students are taking exams.
Sometimes this includes self-harm and sometimes this includes the sort of over-confidence that lands you in court.
It is also A Big Special Day for Dig, the husband who is preserved as mine. The doctors are letting him come home for the afternoon on the promise that he will return this evening and not take the advantage of freedom to do a runner.
Celebrations begin! I have made Dirty Trifle.
Anything resembling boudoir biscuits.
The remains of a bottle of sherry from Lidl.
Tin of custard. (The cheaper the better. Times are hard.)
Tin of sliced peaches in syrup. (Under no circumstances let standards slip and yield to the temptation of sliced peaches in fruit juice or sliced peaches in brine.)
Something white for the top. Preferably not shaving foam.
Break biscuits/stale bread into bowl. Pour in sherry. Pause to drain bottle directly into face. Ignore Squirrel who covers her eyes. Open can of peaches and tip into bowl. Add custard. Do not remark on strange beige colour. Add white stuff. (It came out in a lump, and was difficult to spread evenly. The decorative banana will sort it.) Time: 5 mins, max.
Leave Dirty Trifle on table while find bag, keys, credit card for hospital card park. Depart. Shout, There'd better be some of it left by the time I bring your father home.
And Happy Birthday.
UPDATE. Dig is not allowed out of the hospital.
Therefore the Grit and Dig family invent a new sport called Extreme Trifling.
This requires Squirrel to carry the Family Bowl of Trifle through the car park, past the building works and into the hospital onwards, until we find a suitable resting place in the canteen.
Here we demonstrate the thoroughly British Show of Bravado and Defiance in The Face of All Odds.
Next Week! Extreme Trifling sees The Family Trifle eaten in spirited defiance of disaster at the Bletchley roundabout on the A5.