I’m just finishing my second day of minding Little Stuff while her parents attend a conference. She is being her cheerful and delightful self, but I have one problem. The temperature is forecast to reach 32°C tomorrow and I can’t remember how to work the climate controls to get air conditioning. If I were at home, I could move one simple switch but this house has a state-of-the-art multi-program climate control box and I can’t recall what to do to get it to cool. If I were at home, I probably could cope by opening all of our multitude of windows but this house is an inner city infill and, to have the number of rooms they wanted, daughter and partner had built what is essentially a staircase with rooms off it. It does not ventilate all that well because there are no good openings on the ground floor. I can see a melt-down coming. Mine.
In truth, I have a second problem. My darling Little Stuff is a rule abiding, earnest little soul. She attends a French Language school and the rule is that once on the school grounds, only French can be used. She has to be delivered to her day care and signed in. And she tells me all sorts of neat stuff, in French, while we go there. Even worse. Tomorrow she misses day care for gymnastics and I want to spring her at the end of the scholastic day and skip day care. I will have to tell her carer, she says, or write a note. Hélas, j’ai oublié toute ma Français. Starting with where to find the accents on this keyboard which is English querty. There is a way, using the control key, if I could remember what to hit afterwards. My own computer has a keypad and I keep the list of accent alternates on my bulletin board.
Problem #1 I think I have set the air conditioner. We will see later when the temperature rises.
Problem # 2 Little Stuff dictated the message I had to send. Several times. I hand wrote it, disguising (I hope) shaky accents.
Today I have to clean the tortoise's enclosure and the guinea pig's cage. Tomorrow I have to feed some crickets to the lizard. Luckily the lung fish can look after itself. And the cleaning company is due this afternoon to remove the cat hair and other debris. And put out all of the various refuse containers. Thunderstorms are forecast. Ah, the joys of city living. In the evening, however, I can sit out on the balcony and nothing bites me. A joy indeed.