Housewiffery

Clock ticking.
The thwack of a bird on the window pane.
It nearly made it into the bedroom.
Managed to relaunch after the window pain. .
The post now arrives at 10.30.
The letter about an idiot woman who banged into the ‘oosbinds car 18 months ago and still they are bellyaching about who pays for what.
The rain sounded like Costa Rica last night, all my peas and beans have taken a battering.
Ate my first lettuce from the veg patch. Crunchy and green.
After one week of being Vanessa Feltz I am now delighted to report that I am being myself for a lot longer.
The air hovers, the sun is shining over the wet lawn.
After a trip into town I will travel back on the train with an Evening Standard, a pen and a completed crossword.
My life, and everybody in it, is on top of the duvet, without me asking somebody has come and shaken it up in the air – to get out the wrinkles – and thrown us all into the dust motes. With a bit of patting down and brushing off, life will feel smooth again.
Daily housewiffery wouldn’t you say?