I have been up and down to London.
In and out of pain.
Under the thumb.
Round the houses.
Past my best.
And over the moon.
I have bought myself a new Flash power mop.
I can’t use it until I have swept the kitchen properly, and anyway I don’t want to dirty the sponge.
It is purple and comes with instructions.
A BLOODY MOP WITH INSTRUCTIONS and batteries!
It has 4 batteries included, 3 clip on bits to the handle and two velcro thingies to scrub the floor.
Am I delighted?
Because, at the moment, the idea of a new mop is as exciting as getting a new contract.
Because being back in the cottage is a delight and now that my fridge is working and the hob has stopped clicking, and all the plates have been dishwashed and the red carpet looks great on the floor of the dresser, I feel my life has taken on some order and anyway I’ve got nothing else in my life – at the moment – but just you wait until January…..
As for you darling bloggers.
I have a pain in the ankle and you lot, literally, reduce the inflammation.
But now I am going to bed with my husband, who is up at 6.30, so that he can drive to a theatre where he will dress up, trip over his frock, entertain the audience and come home to a Christmas tree which is being erected by B and her new beau.
They will arrive at 12.00 cover the house in confusion, canoodle in front of the fire, collect a take away, sleep in the attic, then leave very early on Sunday morning for an assignation in Dagenham.
I have bought a handful of Christmas presents and another tube of pain relief gel.
I plumped up a cushion and have had my leg over for most of this evening.