I'm not one to whinge, you won't hear me complaining, 'keep on smiling', that's my motto . . . but even so this bloody housework and nursing and cooking and washing-up and shopping and laundering and ironing - and, of course, not forgetting the non-stop cleaning up of the cat's sick - is pissing me off to the nth degree! As I said to 'er upstairs' as she lay in bed smiling sweetly, just how long does it take to get over a metal spike being drilled into your femur? I mean, it's been a week now and I would have thought she would have been pulling on the No. 9 shirt this Saturday! But no, she's still lying their, smiling sweetly, except when she gets out of bed to do her impersonation of Anthony Sher's Richard III - which is actually coming on a treat now! Do you know, and you'll find this hard to believe, but sometimes I get the faint suspicion that she's rather enjoying the sight - and sound - of me trying to run the house.
Anyway, can't spend any longer up here in the garret, she'll be banging on the floor with her crutches if I don't get on! Just to say that I have my programme arranged for today - clean up the cat sick deposited with malignant intent underneath the bed, get madam hosed down in the shower (I might throw the bloody cat in with her!), down to Sainsbury's (on a Saturday morning - such fun!), back home to discover the mysteries of how to do a colour wash (I qualified with distinction on white washes!), make lunch and then, this afternoon, I intend to spend a bit of time on this blog because there are several matters festering in my mind. So this afternoon - stand by for incoming!