............What a lovely September day, blue sky dotted with sunshine and only a slight breeze.

Spent most of the morning watching mum, true she went out but she wasn't quite with it. 10/10 though for resilience, determination and bravery. Nothing will stop my old bean craning to look up at overladen bookshelves.
It punched my heart.

I've spent a few quiet hours ironing, tidying and generally pottering around in a domestic fashion. Would loved to have hoovered but mum is drifting in and out of sleep so I thought it best to leave the rotten task till tomorrow. Talking of tomorrow, as I ironed and made bread I watched The Day After Tomorrow, an eco horror flick, it's a thrill a minute and made light my tasks.

For the past few hours a bowl of sultanas have been soaking, they now look like watery gelatinous beads.
As soon as I've freshened up and done my make-up I'll rustle up a few Rock Cakes.

Now I must fly.........Want to drink in some garden air before mum wakes up:)

HELP WANTED: Please apply via the Bungalow

Don't let anyone tell you Housewives don't have much to do...
Why I'll be positively exhausted by lunchtime.
Have even thought of hiring a little someone to help, the pay wouldn't be much, probably no more that fifty pence an hour but for that, the lucky worker would have free tea and me as their boss. And who wouldn't want me looking over them as they bend? Er.... quite a few actually.

Now about this morning...

Breadmaking. I made this little effort last week it tastes like nothing on earth probably because I prayed over it. When I make bread I'm taken to spiritual flourland where all bad thoughts are knocked out by the constant pounding of the bare dough.
Today I'll be ditching the white in favour of the brown, a change is as good as a rest and all that.

Talking of change, last night I didn't watch a gun infested film I watched something much more painful.
'Control' a film depicting the short life of Ian Curtis singer with Joy Division
So impressed was I that I want to write a poem about him or at least write about how the film made me feel. I didn't know much about the band or the man but the whole thing made an impression on me



Making a pie with left over chicken although having just stuck my head in the fridge it looks as if there might not be enough...So methinks a little cooked veg might be added to the mix, just so the pie is good and plump. Can't bear skinny pies. There's something mean about a half-hearted, half-stacked pies. If you're going to make something whether it's a pie, a promise or a night of love, then give your all.


Will attempt to de-cobweb the outdoor lamp because if someone calls (a most unlikely event) I don't want them thinking someone with evil intent and a complete disregard for dusters has taken over the bungalow. Which reminds me recently I watched Predator 2. Apart from feeling the film was made by two different directors each one reading a different story, it was ok. Although Danny Glover was never going to rock like Arnie. Danny waltzed. Sack the casting director.
SPOILER ALERT.... At the end the rather sexy metal chested dreadlocked Predator showed he had some kind of humanity by not ripping Glover's spine out, instead handing him some old gun from 1721. Ok ok we get it, so you've been around for a few hundred years and you'll be back (God help us) for Predator 3:)


I might, if I have time this morning, rustle up a few Coconut Sponge Fingers. Good old Spongey Fingers, always pleasing to both eye and palette. Which reminds me I have a new lipstick in the shade of Temptress Rose. I now want someone to feed and kiss.

So that's my morning. Well what's left of it! My afternoon will be taken over by snooker.
After all I do need a break...!

Ta ta!
I love you all