Oh, who knows anything anyway

1. It’s not that life has been quiet at the Mansion of Y, people of Blogland. Oh no. In fact it’s been a positively frantic six days, six days and already my fingers seem to have forgotten how to navigate this keyboard. Lots happened in the real world. I had fun and frolics and witty things were said, but I didn’t write it down at the time and now it’s too late.

2. I could tell you about what I’ve been up to with my Special lady Friend this past week; but then you’d sigh and wish your week too had involved candlelit, musty subterranean winebars, picnics by the Thames and extremely potent pot brownies consumed during – thankfully- a 3 day bank holiday week end. Yes. I could. But I won’t.

3. Today the cat and I are sulking in our respective corners. He because he got another asymmetrical haircut earlier; I because I have been awaiting the arrival of the ParcelForce man since 8am this morning; It’s now 6.19pm, and I’m irritated. I tried ironing; there’s something strangely soothing about the gliding, steaming iron on 300 threadcount linen pillow cases; perhaps it’s the smell of lavender, perhaps my troubled soul finds solace in smoothing out crumpled shirts. Still, a pile of anally pressed linen later and two tall glasses of Pimm’s and lemonade, and still no Parcelforce delivery man. This inebriated domestic goddess’s nerves are frazzled.

4. Pah. It’s all I’ve got to say for myself today. Too much sugar, not enough exercise. Thank you for stopping by.