Sunday, 1 March 2009

Every day is like Sunday

No disrespect to Morrissey, but, as we all know, every day isn't like Sunday. And that is a good thing. If every day were like Sunday, the only businesses to make any money in France would be garden centres, I'd spend my life gardening, lie-ins would quickly lose their novelty appeal, and we'd have to watch a week's worth of EastEnders all in one sitting (which is too much even for me).

What I have learned today:
- my electric hand mixer is one of my favourite kitchen gadgets. So very useful.
- our hot water is too hot. Ouch. Or maybe I need to make full use of the possibilities of the mixer tap?
- women need men to do icky tasks such as disposing of small animal corpses discovered in the garden. Let's not go into that.
- our garden is an almighty mess.
- ivy is a bugger to dig up
- when our neighbour offers me a few bay leaves, what he actually means is about thirty branches of them. Still, good for spaghetti sauce.

Happy Sunday afternoon everyone.