A Quick Badly Thought Out Post

After a fab sleep I woke to banana toast and Roy Hodgson.

The two are unrelated. Sort of.
I very much doubt that Mr Hodgson would embrace such a girly breakfast. But as breakfasts go it's a corker especially when it's made for you. Mr H. peeling orf his yellow rubber washing up gloves in order to grill me bread and honeyed nanas.

Hodgson.
Roy, has said that he expects, nay demands his pampered players to behave well during Euro 2012 and would therefore like to see the skilled brats drinking coffee outside a nice cafe and drowsily tiptoeing around museums. Er..... Can't see Mr Rooney with a guide book can you?
This England coach means business.
I like him already.

Yadder yadder....

I have a long to-do list today so better get a move on.

Bacon. To braise. (Ideal for mother's gums)

Cake. To bake. (Ideal for friends, family and sanity)

Fruit. To saladyfy. (Two cheap tins decanted into glass bowl)

Creases. To iron away. (Yeah right)

Plants. To tend. (My little green babies)

Monty. To mother. (Cat won't leave my side, feels he's being excluded on account of football and mum)

Violent film. To re-watch. ('Law Abiding Citizen' revenge, torture, perfect viewing with a bag of milk bottles)

Readers Digest. To flick and fondle. (Recipes all in large print)

Euro 2012. To look forward to. (And Wimbledon, I ask for nothing more than a summer of sport and love and cheesecakes) Not necessarily in that order.

Ok now I must fly.
Mother needs to be air-lifted into position, Monty needs a smacked arse and Mr H. needs...me!

Cheerio
;)

In a lather over windows, spurs and dove soap

I'm in Chuckaway mode so instead of doing me dinner am in the throes of pulling down curtains and sweeping away cobwebs and knick knaks.
Menopause or mother related madness? I just don't know.
Still if it makes the joint cleaner and more accessible then let's rip.

Regarding dinner...It'll be late, very late because Tottenham take on Stevenage in Stevenage in the 5th round of the FA Cup. Nothing spurs me on, on a Sunday, than Boiled Bacon, de-webbing and footie.

By the way gave tiny mum a strip wash this morning then soothed her legs with Moonflower Body Creme. Her new blue and white sailor-type jim jams looked so cute on her that I lost my voice, she....so tiny, so unknowingly wise, so full of grit. After her wash we talked, her in bed, me at the end of the bed, we talked about Dove soap and life after death, we both agreed both were desirable, one being easy pickings, the other a matter of faith.
She has both:)

Now I must fly into the arms of Harry Redknapp:)