Just Another Day At The Sink

I'm Henry's housekeeper. It's official.
I know that because that was how he described me this morning when an irate ex-employee popped round for a little chat...

"Tell 'them' " Henry said gently "That you couldn't see me because my housekeeper wouldn't let you in."

The loud man stood in the middle of the kitchen taking up a lot of space, he was livid yet had the calmness of a man on a mission, of a man intent on getting his point across, so being a housekeeper of some quality I legged it upstairs while they slugged it out.

After a little while I came down and the shouting man was still shouting but after a few soothing words from H, he left, apologising to me for any disturbance caused.

Henry meanwhile sat fuming, plotting revenge.
Now I know why he keeps a cosh by his bed.

On a less fraught note, I'm loving Radio 4's 'A History of the World in 100 Objects'. Today's object being a stone cutting tool.
Radio 4, a small quiet place for people of quality.

To Do. Probably.

1. Bask in the sun through dusty windows. The conservatory knick knacks need attending to and the floor needs a scrub

2. Day dream about night time. Last night, this night and probably next week's nights.

3. Eat the last Bagel, probably this afternoon whilst watching a recorded documentary about Alma Cogan.

3. Hold hands with Monty just like in picture above. This was taken a couple of weeks ago, we were having a gentle loving Mother and son moment. The very next moment he stormed off.

4. Compose great literature after making a small pizza.

That's enough for one Sunday.
As I look out onto my large frontage I grin wickedly because the grass was cut yesterday and not by me! And as a few daffs rock and roll in the breeze my heart jumps to the sound of the kettle switching off....