Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.
I thought I’d be grumbling at the state of the weather and self-enforced house arrest (go to Homebase? But… but… it’s raining!) but actually it’s been very lovely. Maybe this is the trick to home ownership – when it’s dry and clear you feel guilty about not doing all the things that need doing (next job: fixing the new water butt onto the drainpipe. Tools needed: drill and hacksaw) but in the wet I can curl up and say "no! I will not paint the bathroom. That can wait until I can open the doors and let the fumes out. Ha!" So, I’ve been reading the paper and watching the Grand Prix and pottering about doing very little in my slobbing about trousers and big cardigan. It feels like an age since I did very little. I’m torn between evening activities of a) seeing if my hair’s now long enough to pin back b) continuing with Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell c) creating something bizarre for dinner with whatever I have in the fridge, or d) all of the above.
Sometimes it’s just the little things that make life wonderful.