I am writing from the middle of my wardrobe. I sit here surrounded by whiteness and mirrors and bits of dowel and I have come to the part in the instructions where it clearly states, in diagram form, “give up for a bit and go and do some blogging”. This bit comes shortly before connecting the oojamaflip to the doofah and slightly after undoing all the screws that connected the whatjamacallit to what is clearly the wrong dooberrywhatsit.
Actually it is not going too badly so far. The helpful instructions have told me to construct the wardrobe as close as possible to the place where it is going to stand… and then informed me that I needed a space at least 8 foot square in which to construct it .. more, if I actually wanted room to move while building. Thus I am building my wardrobes a long long way from where they are intended to stand, and have had to totally reorganise my lounge in order to do so. In fact, one could almost ponder whether it might be easier just to bring the bed in here!
Tiddles is feeling quite pleased with himself, having managed to construct the little bedside cabinet single handed. OK, so I helped a little bit, but having learnt from my childhood experience that it is a good thing to learn how to put together flat-pack furniture but is a very boring activity if all you’re allowed to do is pass the screwdriver and hold the nails, I insisted that he take the role of master carpenter and I’d simply do the labouring. (Hmm.. somehow, though, I seem to miss out both times!)
I was an incredibly good girl today. You can be impressed if you like. Despite the searing cold (can you have searing cold?) and blizzardy wind and drizzly grey rain, M and I resolved to start our swimming and aquafit routine again after a break of several months (and a sarcastic comment from M’s doctor when he weighed her yesterday!). Dad came along for the ride and sat happily in the cafe for half an hour drinking coffee and eating biscuits while we industriously ploughed up and down the pool in the not-exactly-tepid water. We swam for a good three hours from ten forty to eleven o’clock, pausing only occasionally to.. er.. ah yes, to let the lane ahead clear before monopolising it with our energetic and determined swimming, and then had a lovely warm shower and adjourned for coffee. It would have been churlish of us to turn down the Mars Bar Dad offered to buy us, wouldn’t it?