Another lovely day

We are really being spoiled with all these days of beautiful weather. Part of me is pleased that I am not working, as I can enjoy these summer days rather than being in a hot, sweaty classroom (but then there is also the fact that if I'm not working, no money is going into the bank account either.)

The honeysuckle blossoms are out! Yes I know I am in great danger of becoming boring on the subject, but this is a cheapo plant from Poundland, bought two years ago and thrown in to appalling soil to take its chances, sink or swim. And believe me, with all the rain we had last month, it's a miracle that the whole garden didn't sink! Anyway, there it is, in all its glory. Even the local squirrels are coming to take a look. Word must have got round......

Another blonde joke

Another 'interesting' offering from TK. I take no responsibility for anti-blonde content!

A man entered the bus with both of his front pockets full of golf balls, and sat down next to a beautiful - you guessed it - blonde. The blonde kept looking quizzically at him and his bulging pockets. Finally, after many such glances from her, he said, "It's golf balls". Nevertheless, the blonde continued to look at him thoughtfully and finally, not being able to contain her curiosity any longer, asked "Does it hurt as much as tennis elbow?"

Lady of leisure

My spell of supply with the lovely Reception class in finished, half term was last week, although some schools are off this week as well, and I am ready for action.
Up at the crack of dawn, showered, dressed, hair-brushed, made up, breakfasted, sitting to attention on the sofa waiting for a phone call to say,
"Can you go to ....................School, a Y? class?"

Nine o'clock, and the phone has stayed resolutely silent.........

No excuse not to clean the car then. :(

Gone is the rain!

Up here in North Wales the sun is shining in a clear blue sky and it's going to be a beautiful day. I have already spent time in the garden starting off this year's tan.... and doing some work. The little ginger cat without a tail, whose name I do not know is wandering in and out of the house and fretting because I won't let her go upstairs. Lean Rimes is playing on the music centre and I am thinking of this time last year, when Keith and I were touring France on holiday. Not going to happen this year, I fear, but still, the foot is gradually improving.
And my honeysuckle looks as though it's going to flower this year!

Men!

Having spent the whole day getting excited at the idea of only having one computer in the corner of the living room instead of two, I opened the door to Keith this evening to find him triumphantly brandishing something computer-related in his one free hand.
"It's a new graphics card!" he said on seeing my questioning expression.
"For the yellow computer."
"But you said you were getting rid of it," I protested.
"I lied."

(Sometimes I wonder if he's the adult incarnation of 'Just William'.....)

A box too far

"What I could do, I suppose," he said, "is remove one of the towers. Then I can get rid of a lot of the wires."
"Yes, and then we can get rid of all the empty boxes, sort out all the discs and keep it tidy!"
But by this time, Keith had his fingers in his ears and was humming gently to himself.

Housework

There's a programme on daytime TV about women who are addicted to housework. Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but straight after 'How clean is your house' in which female versions of Batman and Robin swoop into unsuspecting victims' houses and expose their filthy, unsanitary houses to the nation, comes this programme about women who are addicted to housework. (The phrase 'from the sublime to the ridiculous' springs to mind here.)
Yesterday and today, I watched this programme, (in disbelief) in between doing other things, in the hope that some of this fanatical zeal for a home totally devoid of dust might rub off on me. Of course, I'm on a non-starter here because of NASA (remember?) but I could start on the rest of the house, maybe?
I tried, I really did. I got the duster and polish out, looked at the hoover, considered the Mr Muscle..............
It's no good, try as I might, I just CAN'T get excited about housework!

(And Keith wouldn't notice if I did anyway.)