A funny sort of day

It's the second anniversary of discovering the husband's infidelity. I wish now that I hadn't chosen Boxing Day to snoop on his 'spare' mobile phone, but that was when the opportunity presented itself and my intuition had been telling me for some time that there was something going on. If it hadn't been Boxing Day I would have long since forgotten the precise date, but now I get to remember it every year. Woopee. New year's resolution number one: get divorced.

I had a strange journey home from work today too. Oh yes, I have to work Boxing Day and bank holidays. Anyway, my windscreen wiper jets worked on the way home for the first time in about a week after I topped them up with super-duper concentrated stuff. When I say 'I', I mean the STBE-husband did it when he came over to collect little man. Strange again.  Anyway, there I was experiencing a feeling of pure joy at being able to clean the windscreen (I mean it; commuting in this snow and ice is really getting to me), when I saw brake lights ahead. It looked very much like someone had jumped from a bridge over the M6 about five cars in front of me. For me, it was the first time I've ever done a three-point turn in the middle of the motorway.

I'll be glad when the thaw comes. Yes, the snow is very beautiful and yes it's nice to go out and throw snowballs. But when you have to drive in it, it's stressful. I haven't been able to go the shortest route from my house to the main road because the slope is too steep and my heavy tank of a car's wheels spin too much (New year's resolution number two: keep saving for a smaller car). So I have to drive the long way round in thick snow and slush to get to a junction which is slightly less steep but is on a blind bend. And I still can't pull out quickly because my wheels still spin a bit even when I do it in second gear. Then there's been the non-working windscreen wash jets, which means I've had to pull over on the hard shoulder or go into services a couple of times on the way to and from work just to be able to see where I'm going. All in all, not nice.

Back to Christmas Day. Daddy came over while there were still a few pressies left to unwrap. We all went to see the chickens together to give them a festive treat of boiled peelings. Yum. I cooked dinner, he washed up, which is, in my opinion, a perfect division of labour. We had a very nice bottle of Orvieto. Little man ate lots of turkey and very little else. The little fella hugged his new dolls' house and parked his new Cars (the film) racing cars in the attic and made us green cakes in his new toy food processor. Then daddy left and B and I went up to grandma and grandad's, where he made more green cakes, this time with a little brown in them (chocolate!). Now I just need to quietly remove some of his old toys and take them to the charity shop.

Random status updates

Just some of the things I did or could have posted today. JK:

• should have bought a bigger pirate ship.
• wonders if there's an equation to work out how long the chlorine takes to offgas from a 30-something litre tank with a surface area I could work out if I could be bothered.
• needs to wash the nasty shop smell out of her new bedsheet. The one to replace the sheet the small child managed to rip.
• needs more tea.
• is impressed that her calves fit in her boots even when clad in skinny jeans, and is pleased that the make of jeans she bought is generously sized, making her a 14.
• is going to get some fresh air and sunshine at Wigg Island.
• couldn't work out if the tide was coming in or going out.
• doesn't like dogs.
• is liking the blossom and celandine.
• is going to leave the washing hanging in the yard while she goes to work and hope it doesn't rain.
• is getting hooked on Rock Radio as some kind of teenage nostalgia thing.
• needs more tea.
• is at work as usual on a Sunday.
• is playing solitaire.
• is liking the fact it's still light when she leaves work.
• should check her tyre pressure.
• should re-tape her car bumper.
• is daydreaming on the M6, as is her piscean wont.
• is opening a bottle of rioja.
• was going to watch The Departed from her V+ box but has given up to have an early night instead.
• needs chamomile and spearmint tea.
• just remembered she needs to put the sheet on her bed before she gets in it.

What is that orange light flashing on the dashboard?

Oh, it's the really helpful, did-you-know-your-tyres-aren't-gripping-the-road light. I had noticed, actually.

I may now reluctantly admit that the weather is a little unusual. Yes, we've had quite a bit of snow. And when there is snow making the car slide in the slow lane of the M6 I think even I have to admit it's bad.

I am of the 'well it is winter, it's only a bit of snow, what's everyone worrying about' camp. I assume that because I think the authorities should keep the major routes clear, they obviously will. Including the dual carriageway between the M62 and the Runcorn bridge. Yes, the one I've just done 27mph down because of the slush.

I had to walk little man up to his grandparents (the other grandparents) in his buggy this morning because they live up a hill on a very narrow lane that it would not have been a good idea to drive down. Then I drove 50-odd miles to work in Preston. Through a blizzard. Then I drove 50 miles back to Runcorn, several hours after dark, in freezing conditions. I have left my car on a flat bit of road half a mile away and walked home hoping the car will be a) still there and b) moveable tomorrow.

Now, my main concern is not whether I can get to work tomorrow afternoon. I'm sure that will all be fine. It's how the hell I am going to go and pick little man up from his grandparents in the morning as there has now been more snowfall and tonight it will freeze... It's about seven miles. I'm considering hiking.

Lichen study

Thanks to inspiration from http://www.slugsontherefrigerator.com, who apparently has a molten hot bath every single night, I have just had a nice long soak and a read. Just what I needed as I'm feeling a bit run down. Having a whopping great ulcer at the back of my mouth is not helping.

Something to do with the weather has made the motorway louder though and it was quite obtrusive through the bathroom window even though it's about a mile away. It's probably all the spray from the downpour we've had this afternoon. As I was getting dried I was gazing out of the teensy gap in the wide open window at the lichen on the roof of next door's extension. As one does. The extension has only been there about five years and there is yellow and light grey-green lichen along the south-east facing ridge of the roof. For all I know it might also be on the north-west facing side but I can't see that from my bathroom window.

I did a project on lichen a few years ago during my OU degree in environmental studies. And I seem to remember that although the yellow one is tolerant of pollution, the greeny ones are less so. So that's good news for the air quality despite us being so close to the M6. Not sure what the lichen situation will be in certain areas of Runcorn that I'm considering moving to, which are a stone's throw from the chemical works. It's the only place I'll be able to afford a bit of garden. And emissions regulations should be pretty stringent these days.

Five-minute snapshot

In the last five minutes I have:

• seen two tractors (one green, one red) on the way home from work and felt sad that little man wasn't there to see them too.
• Finished listening to my new Romanian Gypsy music CD and decided it's not as good as the Hungarian one.
• opened a bottle of Jacob's Creek Grenache Shiraz I quickly grabbed at Asda without having time to think earlier after getting stuck in Lake District/Scotland traffic on the way to work in Preston.
• put the oven on for a pizza, which is usually my Sunday night ritual. I have most unusually worked Saturday though, which leaves me wondering what I'm going to do tomorrow night.
• pulled all the cables out of the back of the DVD player and put them in the video player instead.
• removed a CD case and half a wooden green pepper from the video slot.
• put on Star Wars (IV) as I've been discussing it with a guy on match.com.
• half heartedly put away a couple of baby jigsaws and that damned Tractor book.
• stepped over the half packet of crackers little man dropped on the kitchen floor earlier.
• taken my sandals off and settled on the settee with the laptop but realised the pizza isn't actually in the oven yet.

X marks the spot where my brain should be

Fuckety fuck and buggery shite. I forgot to vote. I realised this when I was about ten miles down the M6 from home and thought why oh why didn't I write down that list of stuff I had to do this morning. I topped up the chickens' feed and water, emptied the compost bowl, put out the bin, put the dishwasher on, shut windows, closed curtains, fed, washed and dressed a small boy and myself, put washing in a binbag to take to my mum and packed clothes and stuff for a couple of nights away. But I didn't pop round the corner to vote in the European elections.

I even thought about turning round and going back. Or getting to my parents', leaving little man, then going back. But then I noticed the queue on the other side of the motorway. I saw a motorbike embedded in the central reservation. Then several miles of stationary traffic. The motorbike - not nice to think about at all on a sunny summer's morning. But the queue also got me thinking about how unprepared I am for getting stuck on the motorway with little man. I go up and down the M6 a lot to see my parents. But despite having a boot full of junk I have nothing useful. No bottles of water, no snacks, not even any spare nappies and wipes as I know my mum has some at their house.

So I didn't go back to vote, which makes me feel bad. For the record, although I had been considering giving little man the pencil and telling him to make his mark, I would have voted Green Party. And my next task is to sort out the boot of my car and put some useful stuff in there. That's after I do the Codeword my mum has been saving for me because it's so hard. And sorry for the language, mum, but you have to pass a test in eloquent swearing before you're allowed to work for a newspaper.

And on the subject of motorways, I continue to marvel at the giant phallus now towering over the M62 near the Widnes junction. It's supposed to be the elongated head of a girl but the parting in her hair is unfortunate. And it's apparently supposed to be a monument to the area's mining heritage (I'm sure all the ex-miners are really chuffed) but I think the artist got his shafts mixed up.