mess

the kitchen is a disaster, wot the brihish would coal a combat zone.
Culinary Combat Zone.
The son has been cooking, baking, preparing pastry, All used items are resting in the position where last used, used at the time that the battle paused.
There is a glass storage jar of crumble pastry, the result of what must have been quite some work.

Turn on the coffee machine, the principal joy of the morning, the preparation and consumption of a strong black brew. The coffee grinder is pushed back on the table, behind some flour-powdered crockery. Remove the plastic container from the machine, find the coffee spoon combined with the stamper in another corner of the worktop, and fill the little silver sieve.

Make the first cup of coffee of the day, giving but perfunctory attention to the cat, which seems desirous of more notice and food.

Return to the bedroom, sip the coffee-
The sons alarm sounds.
and sounds.
and does not stop.

It does not seem to disturb him in the slightest.
Beep Beep is the high digital plastic noise that it makes.
A noise hard to locate, but a noise that still manages to penetrate solid stone walls.

Go in to his room, call him. Tell him to turn the thing off.
He climbs down from the bed, turns of the alarm clock, and climbs back up again.
Not a word spoken. There are so many buttons on the complicated radio alarm.
But he knows which one to press.

Make another cup of coffee.
It is holiday time.

So there is no need to go to work
There is no need to go to school

Yesterday was spent cleaning up debris
Go downstairs, inspect the passages and the yard.
There is more order there now.
but still a long way to go.