Which character am I?

I came across an amusing quiz on Rosie's site
This was my character - Eleanor Dashwood.
Have a go yourself. Females only, YP!

Take the Quiz here!

More workmen

More workmen in today. (Will any of the neighbours begin to think that I am running a house of ill repute, I wonder?)
Today's task was to install a downstairs lavatory under the stairs. The reasons are two-fold:
It will be helpful to Keith during the day as it will save him having to go up and down the stairs so often
It is necessary for the delight and delectation of my counselling clients - always assuming that I am actually going to get more than one in a blue moon.
Keith was very pleased.
"Two loos, short trek!" he exclaimed happily as he did a quick road test.
(Well, you KNOW boys never grow up!)

Groundforce @ Jennyta

When we first moved to this house, over four years ago now, the garden had been neglected and little attempt had been made to whip it into shape since the house had been built. Though the soil is mostly clay and so very heavy and difficult to work with, I did devote some effort and money towards trying to get something to grow, as you can read here but, sadly, to no avail. I should really have pulled everything out, got some topsoil and a new lawn but I didn't.
So, over the last few years, I have primped and pruned, planted tubs, mowed the weed-filled 'lawn' and, generally wasted my time, but this week, I took the bull by the horns and introduced the services of two gentlemen of the soil who could claim to know what they were doing. Deciding to go for the easy option, I instructed them to rotivate, level the ground and lay a new lawn fence to fence, reuse the available slabs for a small patio and repair the side gate. Easy! So now all I will have to do in future is mow the lawn, tend a few tubs of flowers and lie back in the recliner and enjoy.
But first, I have to keep the dratted cats of the neighbourhood from digging up the newly laid turf!

Nigella mark 2?

It started when I noticed some cheese scones on television.
"I could make some of those," I remarked.
Keith looked at me in amazement. "But you never make me cakes," he said. "You always say I can't have any."
This is true and is in vain pursuit of a leaner, svelter man, but so far, it hasn't worked.
So, by the time he got home I had been shopping, bought the required ingredients and utensils, and there was a superb scent of newly baked scones wafting from the kitchen.
I used to do a lot of baking when my children were growing up. Those were the days when I could produce six dozen mince pies on Christmas Eve and be left with an empty cake tin by Boxing Day.
But today - those scones. They were so light, a puff of wind could have blown them away. Didn't take long to make, either.
Hmm, I feel a new creative urge coming on.
Nigella, eat your heart out, girl. Make way for the expert!

Street cred

My Ford Probe is up for sale.

I was quite happy with my aged Peugeot 106 until Keith acquired the Probe and made me take it on. I have to say, I got used to it. It was quite pleasant having leather seats, electronic windows, air conditioning and cruise control. Actually, scrub the cruise control - I never really got the hang of that.

However, it was quite addictive shooting up the A483, being able to outpace the idiots who, seeing a mere woman at the wheel, foolishly thought I'd be no match for them and shouting, "Eat dust!" at them as they trailed behind in the ever lengthening distance...

But, back to reality.

It is now time to pull in my horns, take account of my newly restricted budget and take delivery of something a little more economical...

like a Toyota Yaris, for example.

OK, it's not so good for my street cred, but it is better for my budget.

It's a hard life!

Yesterday I had to go for my counselling supervision in Chester. It was another beautiful day, crisp, but not really cold, sun shining, blue sky - a day that we will doubtless pay for in weeks to come, but to be appreciated nonetheless.

I have come to like Chester, but only since I discovered the convenience of 'Park and Ride'. Driving around Chester is not to be recommended for those of a nervous disposition. The least hesitation, wrong turning, incorrect lane chosen and you face a barrage of hostility from the 'locals'. I have even had a driver squeezing past me where there was no space to squeeze and folding my wing mirror in as he passed.

So now, I use the 'Park and Ride' bus, get off at Pepper Street, walk smartly down Watergate Street, City Walls Street, over the railway and there I am on the canal bank.

And this is what it looked like yesterday. Unfortunately, the powers that be in Chester seem determined to allow every last possible space to be built on so this area will not be quite so peaceful in the future.

Putting the record straight

I have been asked to put the record straight by Keith. He is concerned that, whilst I have blogged about the fact that my desk mysteriously fell to pieces in his hands as he was moving it to put up the blinds in the conservatory, I failed to mention that the reason for this was my failing to tighten two screws properly when I moved it down from the little bedroom a few weeks ago.
Of course, I only have his word for this.
Oh, but he did a great job of putting up the blinds!