I took the ladder away and there was a bit more to do...

Yesterday was smashing... there was I kitted out in my OLD England shirt and mother's old size 10 slacks slapping blue paint around, most of which hit the spot.
I had help in the form of Mr Horsehound and Mr Hairy.
Both did their best.

Later on, in the evening, after the sausages, I took myself into the front room where mother held court. It was so funny. She snapping about the time I spent away from her throne and me talking to her in mock Nursie tones ( Now now Iris I do have other duties dear, now relax a bit and swallow your senna pods).

We watched as Mark Selby trailed Graeme Dot Com and as he did I felt truly worried. Because the thought of my Sunday afternoon without drooling over Selby's silver trousers was too difficult. But he won anyway albeit with a struggly tussle. That naughty stick boy Dott hanging on till he met his sticky end... Ok no more stick jokes.

Today I'm painting again this time though under the watchful eye of Mr Horsehound, who with his customary cool will finish orf the hard bits, whereas I will roast a chicken and watch the Final between the two hot shots in the snooker universe. Messrs. Selby and Robertson.

A Dream Final in the making.