Musings on the divide between those who do, and those who don't have to.

So, this is the last cooking job of the year. Thank God! 16 people for a weekend is not my idea of heaven however my menu planning has been rather cunning and most of tonight's dinner is done in advance. This did involve working in the kitchen until 10pm last night mind you.

I've made a delicious pudding for tonight - Cointreau and Orange Jelly with grapes and stem ginger. It set in about 5 minutes. I mean I turned around to talk to the Loyal Hound, went to fetch the pudding to put it in the fridge and it was set! Jelly never does that when you want it to. Let's hope that this doesn't mean that it is revolting because it has too much gelatine in it. The main course is lamb tagine, which I have cooked already so that the flavours can develop so that makes that a bit easier as I only have to do the couscous and vegetables now for the main course. The starter is a doddle and so now I just have to do the nibbles and I'm sorted for this evening. Only two cooked breakfasts, a lunch, tea and another 4 course dinner to do.....

Once the cooking is done, I don't have a lovely relaxing time to enjoy my new found freedom. Oh no. The next fortnight is pretty hideous. I am in Scotland next week, then London and Dorset the week after. I know it is all money in the bank, for which I should be grateful as we are now officially in recession, but I confess that I am tired just thinking about it.

There are some women out there who seem to live their life without this kind of manic running around to stay ahead of themselves to afford their book / chocolate / cashmere habits. Instead, they drift around after school looking pretty, marry somebody wealthy and never have to work - EVER! They then spend years complaining that their nanny is unreliable, the new Chanel collection is unwearable and their holiday house is SUCH a chore to maintain. They wouldn't know an electricity bill if it jumped up and bit them and the idea of finding a cheap flight to try and go on holiday just once every two years would be laughable.

How is it that I wasn't one of those and why were they the 'lucky' ones? I don't get it. They aren't necessarily any brighter, funnier, or better read than you or I and I'm not saying that their lives are perfect, or that they are necessarily happy. In fact from the few I have met, they are usually dissatisfied. Perhpas that's the thing that gets me about this peculiar category of women; they don't realise how lucky they are.