Not my CUP OF TEA?

Chaos and a lukewarm cuppa - was this Anita's future?

- Raymond Jamieson

If this is what retirement looks like, I'll keep working,' muttered Anita, surveying her kitchen. Bowls awash with soggy cereal, dirty mugs, and something sticky oozing down the cupboards.

The image of her office at the acupuncture clinic arose unbidden in her mind. Orderly and scrupulously clean. She always had a quiet cup of herbal tea before her day's work began. Her favourite was holy basil.

She could do with some now. But Sophie, her nine-year-old granddaughter, had made her a cup earlier, using the last teabag. Or rather, the last three teabags. The lukewarm water with floating dried basil leaves had lacked its usual therapeutic qualities. Not to mention visual appeal. It hadn't reduced Anita's stress levels.

Of course, she'd thanked Sophie. These early efforts paved the way for her future tea-making skills. But right now, Anita could have done with a decent cuppa.

At least the children were safely at school for the next six hours. She'd been commissioned to write an acupuncture training manual and was anxious to begin.

Murphy's Law, the timing had coincided with her daughter-in-law's horse-riding accident. Unable to manage the resultant domestic chaos, her son Daniel had begged her to look after their three children 'for a week'. This time frame was proving slippery.