The humness of drumness

I have, as you may know, been vigorously spring cleaning this weekend.

Cleaning is never top of my to do list. Life is short. Stuff just goes and gets dirty again. There are a thousand other things I might regret not having done, but hoovering the stair carpet is not one of them.

There are limits to even my slatternliness though, and on a very sunny spring weekend, when the sunlight has shown in microscopic detail how grim the house is, there was nothing to be done but roll up my sleeves and get stuck in.

My back packed up in protest this morning and I have been hobbling around like Mrs. Overall all day. It is a sign that might be an omen. It is a sign that next time the sun shines I should either go out, go back to bed, or draw the curtains and ignore all the dust.

On the up side I have clean sheets to fall into tonight, and I made an excellent gingerbread from the Edd Kimber book I picked up from Dog Rescue for a quid a few weeks back. It is about 9000 calories a slice, so it should be good. I was going to take it to my meeting tonight but the family have revolted and the fraction that’s left is apparently staying in the house and will only be snatched away from their cold, dead hands.

Even Tallulah likes it, and she generally only eats sweets that have chocolate in them or on them, so it is a great accolade to Edd that she approves. I am sure he has no idea of how elated he should feel.

In other inconsequential news, Jason and the children have taken up Crazy Golf. They love it. I am delighted they love it. I shall not be attending. It reminds me too much of evil afternoons playing pitch and putt with my highly competitive dad. Sorry dad. Sorry golf.

Jason has finally fixed the towel rail in the children’s bathroom. It has been dodgy for months and every time I go in there (the horror, the horror) I think about fixing it and then promptly forget upon exit, overwhelmed with relief that we have separate bathrooms.

It just needed a spot of glue, which he duly applied and then carefully stuck the lid of the glue to the toilet lid.

Tallulah has turned an old glass jar into a  vase which she then turned into a pretend Chanel No. 5 bottle via a craft video on YouTube. She stole some of Tilly’s newly purchased daffodils to put in it. She is obsessed by making her room over every five minutes. She came to show us the vase in all its makeover glory.  She spoiled the stylish effect somewhat by then claiming that she had grown the daffodils herself, ‘between my butt cheeks’.

Some way to go before she topples Zoella from her YouTube throne I think.

Finally, I recommend The Gallery of Vanished Husbands by Natasha Solomons. I read it last night when I had a rare bout of insomnia, and loved it. It was one of those books that made the insomnia not a curse but a treat, because it meant I could read the entire book.


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