I was enjoying a quiet housewifey day when H. phoned turning what was a quiet ladies day into a fraught day. Twice he phoned, neither time did I speak to him. His garbled message spoke of nothing but himself. So no change there then. No, I will not come and work for you again, you sad little man...
What else?
Oh yes I lugged an old dark wooden coffee table into the garden placing upon it a large deep round plate which I had filled with water. And after scattering a handful of bird seed around the aforementioned plate I tutted because I'd forgotten to change my footwear...
The bathroom looks neat, it's miraculous what some yellow Vim and a green scourer can do. Must do something about the wretched windows though, they do look awful.
A young man rang my bell just after five asking if I'd like him to shift my gutter moss. He said he'd give me a quote, I said I have bookfuls of them. He left wishing me a good evening.
Monty has not yet seen the chicken pie.
Monday, 1 March 2010
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