Extreme multi-tasking

It seems impossible to do one thing at a time right now. Yesterday I managed to make a chocolate, salted, velvet caramel torte  for dinner at the Greens later, while trying to sort out William's Bronze Duke of Edinburgh stuff because no one has done anything (except Will and his mate Taylor), and it's next weekend. So we put all the team mates into a single group, emailed them over the maps and told them to pack their own lunches/snacks and we'll do the rest. Part of me hopes they don't read them and turn up with nothing. It makes you wonder what the hell the parents are doing behind the scenes? At a guess I'd say naff all. 

Next up James had a go at making sourdough, starting to mix the first stage while I did a HIIT out on the terrace; checking in in between sets to help with instructions. In the afternoon James went on to make a tiramisu to take to Richard and Sonya's (along with my CSVC), while I helped out with advice along the way sitting behind the sewing machine and ploughing through a mountain of names tapes and hems before finishing off another mountain of ironing. 

This morning it's sunny and crisp with a definite snap of Autumn in the air. James' sourdough was baked last night as we watched The Shawshank Redemption and he has set off to Winterbourne to fetch eggs from Rose Farm, so breakfast is going to be fresh sourdough with poached eggs and honey from the garden. As I jumped up and down, the phone rang at intervals as James checked in to give us progress reports. He arrived at the farm as I was finishing off my core, so with the phone on speaker and legs cycling, James explained that there were no eggs in the honesty box, but he'd met the farmers and they went out to collect that morning's eggs fresh for him. What a brilliant result. I kind of missed the stretch part of the workout, but not to worry. 

The only person that has managed to do one thing is William. Who flatly refused to do the work out with me (because initially James had threatened to join in), refused to go cycling (too far and he was too tired), and has instead spent the last hour hovering around the kitchen, checking his phone messages intermittently and looking balefully at the washing up.

James has just turned up, eggs still warm. Off to make breakfast. 

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