A busy evening

I feel like I haven't stopped... home from work by 6pm (shock horror: so early!) ready to receive Ocado; changed ready to go for run (I use the word run very loosely in my current state, you understand); cleaned out two cat litters; received Ocado; went for "run" (and got utterly soaked); prepared dinner, put shopping away, negotiated Ocado's well-meant/impractical/but at least free - bag tidy; fed cats and did Cody's pills; emptied washing machine and put new load in; hung stuff to dry; served dinner. At 9.45pm.

Now, I should add two caveats here:

1. We don't have children. That means that, although I am conditioned to WORK work 12-24 hours a day if necessary, the concept of dealing with a squillion tasks at home has always eluded me - which is why I never phone my mother / deal with paperwork / write letters to friends / get decorating done / pay bills on time / etc etc

2. I understand the concept of housework, just not as it applies to me. Or so the saying goes. I can - and do - happily (well, not happily, necessarily, but without losing sleep or spilling my wine) manage to survive without changing bedsheets for 2 weeks at a time (more with excuse of broken arm), hoovering, dusting, blah blah blah. We can both go for weeks without doing any washing or ironing if pushed.

So all you mothers and proper women who can do the multi-tasking thing with such aplomb, can relax: I know my limitations. I have a boy gene, I think. So. I am exhausted. CSI has just finished and we shall wend our way bedwards. Where I shall continue with Oxford Blue... having finally made it to the point where the real mutiny actually starts, and hopefully things start moving with a bit more... how can I put it... "pull"?

This Life

Nearly Midnight. Have completed the Ocado shop, the Boots.com shop (going through dressings still like wildfire on my leg, though tis finally showing much better signs of healing), emailed Marc about pension stuff (cannot believe he sent me ten documents to read: is he mad? He knows what I'm like at the best of times!).

Spoke to Suse yesterday about writing a "lymphoedema for real living" manual - don't think she quite shared my enthusiasm - it's me, just can't communicate my thoughts clearly enough.

I am worried about her - she is so frazzled and at the end of her tether - Alfers is not sleeping and its torture. For both of them (that is, Rob as well). Talking of which, Cody (annoying cat) is driving us both insane with her constant yowling. Calm, I am calm, thinking of warm Indian ocean breezes and whale sharks.. yes, time to book a holiday in Kilifi (Kenya).

And I have once again let the car insurance deadline go by... oops.

An untypical Sunday

Well, the Dows were up at the crack of dawn this morning, or so it seemed to a pair so very unaccustomed to crawling out of bed before noon on a weekend.

We spent the day with Rob and Sue and baby Alfie, luxuriating in one of the last really sunny warm days of the year on rugs on the lawn by the pond in front of Chiswick House. Alfers slept half the time but to tell the truth, he's such a jolly baby, and very easy to amuse, so it's easy to carry on a conversation whatever he's doing.

Rob 'n Suse are both exhausted, bless them - Alfers has not had a good run lately what with colds and kiddie infections of one kind or another - and frankly I think they both really need to just sleep for a thousand years. But they're hanging in there. They are such a good team those two.

Anyway, back home in time for the last half of Poirot. Must get the hang of this blog thing over the coming week - you know, customising, putting the background and profile in - and learning how to type with a certain cat who shall be introduced later practically sitting on the keyboard! Any errors are definitely hers and nothing to do with me still being manually challenged... two weeks and three days to go!

Getting started

My first ever blog.

Actually, I could claim this is all part of an experiment to turn Andrew - known as Bigfoot in some parts - from the world of professional indemnity insurance to a world of written creativity. He is one of the most imaginitive describers of the world around him I have ever known... but clearly you may argue I am biased. And you may be right. (or is that write? ha ha).

Not the best of times to start since my arm is still broken and I spend more time on the delete button than anything else but there you go. Never a right time to start with anything, is there?

And since we are both in the middle of cooking a curry - he does all the two-handed stuff, thank heaven - here endeth my first post.