Another wasted Sunday

I sometimes feel I should rename this blog Groundhog day because clearly I end up moaning about the same old same old..
So it's Sunday, Mother has decided to make use of a return ticket and come to London for the day. Traditionally she has always enjoyed a bit of shopping but when I mooted this as the reason for coming I was told that actually no, what was the point? She didn't NEED any clothes so why would she want to shop for clothes? Fine, so what did she want to do? I guess she thought I would take her to the Van Gogh, but tough, I had just been, nothing to stop her from getting a ticket but no, she did not want to do that either.
I racked my brains and like a fool thought she might like to go to The Wallace Collection. yes I know it is all a bit ginky but it's free and my sister thought maybe we could meet for afternoon tea at The National Gallery afterwards since we had a voucher. Throw into this heady mix Leyla and you have a recipe for a totally shit Sunday.
Mother was clearly not bowled over by the opulence of the Wallace Collection, what she wanted to do was talk of all things domestic, you know the stuff. "What tiles should I have in the bathroom?" "What do you suggest I should do to get out more?" the stuff that when you answer, it is as if you've asked to take a piss in her handbag. I mean she has had 6fucking7 years to think about this one. Yet she behaves like she has been hit with a curve ball.
Now Leyla sensing she was not the centre of attention decided she would spend the entire day disappearing, which meant I spent the entire day calling her name, which meant my Mother felt the need to make the usual bitchy remarks including "that it was like going for a walk with her friends dog who failed to return and so had to be called every 2 seconds". Marvellous eh? She moans if I don't let her see the kids, moans when they are there.
The afternoon tea was so bad, seriously bad, we did not pay because of the voucher sent after complaining about a previous poor meal, but to me sandwiches with less inspiring fillings than you buy in Sainsbury's in stale bread with cakes too sweet and stodgy to eat, washed down with a thimble of the weakest tea is not my idea of a treat. Yet some how curiously fitting with the mood of the day.
Seriously we had to beg for some hot water as we were not allowed more tea!
Other complaints from Mother were about making her walk down Bond Street when it was too cold. But I did see these gorgeous necklaces, are they not lovely? A cashmere tie instead of a ribbon how heavenly.
I then get an email telling me someone she knows has just sold 17k of paintings by sub letting an empty shop window and why don't' I pull my finger out and do something similar?
Seriously where do I begin? Luckily we have such busy diary's this half term I will be unable to visit. My karma is of course restored since I had an excellent painting class yesterday. I really do not want it to end, the class is great, I get to walk past loads of my favourite shops and when I get back the tidy fairy has sprinkled her magic dust and folded all the clean washing up and put it away.
Talking of tidy fairy's my assistant is off sick and quite frankly she had better come back soon, I have not stopped!
Although I managed to put lots of photographs on flickr which now look to me as boring as anyone elses holiday snaps, but maybe I am just a little jaded. Can't think why.