After weeks of god-awful rain and gale force winds the sun has finally come out to play. I believe it may be a one day only type deal, but it is a welcome respite nonetheless. It is nicer to get around in the sunshine, full stop. I don't know how many appointments I have arrived at lately looking like an extra from The Perfect Storm. One cannot remain calm nor professional in manner or appearance when wearing waterproof clothing and having to undo approximately 37 tabs of wet velcro on a pram once arriving at one's destination.
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| image courtesy of google |
Creative or Domestic?
This week follows a lovely long weekend, the main themes of which included pyjama time, eating cooked breakfasts, catching up with girlfriends and having group hugs with the boys. Also, 90 minute walks (active) were balanced out by watching, in a daze, as Scott played LA Noire (so not active). As enjoyable and relaxing as it all was I would be lying if I said I didn't boot my man out the door with a big "love you, bye!" as he set off for work again on Tuesday. This is my domain now after all - the leftover mess from the lost weekend being all mine too.
Pesky domesticity: 10
Creativity: Nuls points
Afternoon delight
I have come to love lurking around the local charity shops, now that I have time to explore the long neglected neighbourhood. And buried among the fast fashion rejects are some red-hot granny finds, I tell you. If you get particularly lucky (as I did) then the person serving you will be some volunteer who is bad at maths. I scored two vintage belts for a pound: One was actually a pound but the other didn't have a price tag on it, so somewhere in the shop assistant's thought process it simply became "free".
Being a charity I perhaps should have said something and given him the darned extra pound. But I am skint, so ner.
Babe report
Note to self: Must be careful opening kitchen drawers when my small-faced charge is sitting in a bouncy chair watching dinner preparations. A near-miss, but still.
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