AIDA AUSTIN

AIDA AUSTIN: "Actually, they’re vegan. And Leo doesn’t drink"

A FRIEND arrives in the kitchen, bearing a plate covered in tin foil. “Scones,” she says, “just out of the oven but they might need a bit more cooking.”

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AIDA AUSTIN: ‘I knew two windscreen wipers would come in handy’

Having argued his case for road safety with great ease, economy of effort and conviction — like the lawyer that he is — and banned me from picking him up from Cork airport in my “mobile skip,” my brother-in-law arrives in a hire car.

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AIDA AUSTIN: "Lick it off the wall is right," I agree, licking my lips

HOME, 8pm, and we’re watching Masterchef. “Lucky judges,” I say, “never mind the pickled cauliflower — it would be worth having to taste them just for those shallots.”

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AIDA AUSTIN: "The ‘ends well’ bit, I shout. "I want the ‘ends well’ bit. I want the ‘ends well’ bit now."

HOME ALONE, and waiting for a call from my husband. 

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AIDA AUSTIN: "Our wedding anniversaries are cursed, I vote we forget presents"

Wednesday night, upstairs, and my husband is resurrecting his Spiderman Scuttle - something to do with muscle flexion, I seem to remember - which involves scampering sideways, like a crab, back and forth across our bouncy floor-boards so that the bed shakes.

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AIDA AUSTIN: ’It’s as if obesity is a disease you can catch, like chicken pox’

MY mother’s gone radio silent; it’s Tuesday afternon and her Monday morning phone call that has punctuated my life as inevitably and reliably as the weekly shop, never arrived. 

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AIDA AUSTIN: "Come on," he shouts, just like he did when I was in childbirth, "last push now"

SUNDAY, 5pm, and after a five-year break from painting, I’m resurrecting my old studio. It’s a long way from Picasso’s atelier on the Riviera but it will do, like it always did, the job.

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AIDA AUSTIN: Aida Austin: We’re looking for someone who’s clean, relaxed and funny

I am in Sligo, where life has transposed itself, like it always does, into a scene from ‘The Edwardian Farm’.

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AIDA AUSTIN: Mum says there was no cholesterol in her day, so she doesn’t know if it’s hereditary and at least it’s not Ebola

IT’S THURSDAY, 5pm, and my husband finds me in the back hedge, hacking at rugosa with lopping shears. He’s carrying two cups of tea in one hand and eating a sandwich from the other.

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AIDA AUSTIN: "It has sound effects and everything! You’re first"

UPSTAIRS in bed at 11pm. My husband says he wants to watch episode 3 of The Bridge on my laptop but this would contravene our no-technology-in-bed-rule. 

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