So another weekend begins, and I must resist the tempation to spend much of today playing with our new blog. It’s a beautiful sunny day — I hope it’s not the weather’s idea of an April Fool’s joke — and a good day to give the patio a bit of a spring-clean. Then there’s the shopping to do, the bathroom fan to disable, the recording of last week’s rehearsal to get on the Fangled website, photo’s to pull off the camera. Well, that’ll do for a start.
And talking of starting, I’ll go and do the patio now. Perhaps taking a couple of pics so I can stick them on here later 🙂
An hour later and the bulk of that is done, despite there being a bit too much wind for a leaf-clearing excersise. In the spirit of multi-tasking, I think a context-change is called for so I’m off to the shops before the butcher rans out of meat. As soon as I’ve hung out the washing that is. Now, where’s my pinny..?
Mmm… Dunns. Well, shopping done, though I’ll have to pop down to Tesco’s innabit to pick up an organic chicken. I’ll probably have to buy it, too. Got the fan done, too. Is it a common human trait that jobs which take a mere ten minutes to complete can end up hanging around on the to-do for months, or even years, before finally getting done? And what is it that triggers that kind of situation? Maybe there was some kind of initial reluctance to do the job (“tsk, it’s against building regs…”) which, even when overcome, forced the project onto the back burner.
Anyway, says he, in a Herculean attempt to get back on topic, Isa called while I was fiddling with the fan. She’s taken LolaBump out for a mammoth hairdressing session in St John’s Wood. She has long-standing clients there who tend to want all their hair done on the same day, which is good in a way but pretty wearing. Especially when you’re six months pregnant. She’s finished the family now, and has one more client to visit before she heads to Liberty’s and John Lewis to spend her final reserves of energy and the last of the vouchers we have. I’d better stop enjoying this coffee and smoke in the conservatory and hoik off down to Tesco’s and start preparing some nourishing nosh.
More wittering later, no doubt.
