Crikey what's this I thought as Monty shredded my feet. I'm feeling a little warm in the body area. Must have left the blanket on warp factor 9.
Idiot features.
No need to get in a lather.
Just a turnabout in the weather.
And try as I might I couldn't eat my bran flakes in a shady kitchen so I potted along to the front room of balmyness and ate them there.
Monty lay like an ebony draught excluder his furry bits made magnificent by enormous shafts of sunlight. He made a very good footstool.
Branflakes embedded in teeth I mused about today.............
The garden needs a-doing. baby weeds popping up through my useless membrane. Grass awash with pretty weeds, all highly lovely but so unloved by most. Had a sudden inclination (oh God no) to allow a patch of lawn to grown into a mental meadow.
I wonder if the Minestrone will be enough. Certainly put enough in it. Almost peeping out the top of my chubby tureen.
Cheese scone round. When to make and bake. Whilst listening to Desert Island Discs or watching Jeremy Kyle. Reminds me. I dashed into Somerfields late last night in my baseball cap and ethnic skirt to buy pure mature cheddar. I think someone called the manager.
My knees are playing up.
Is George and Mildred on ITV3 today? The lovable sex obsessed Yootha Joyce annoying long toe-nailed pickled onion obsessed Brian whatsisname. She wanted sex, she got pickling vinegar and nail clippers. Murphy....Brian Murphy
I squinted at the dust on the windows, sucked in my balloon tum, thought about night time cake and was glad it was/is Friday.
