Routines are useful things. They may be a bit boring, but life is generally easier to manage with some kind of pattern. I find this to be especially true when the very house you live in is constantly on the Read more
It’s amazing how quickly one becomes used to a cavernous hole in one’s kitchen floor. I have actually forgotten it’s there. Well, that’s to say, I had, until the Meter Reading Man came round. I am always a little suspicious Read more
There’s a funny sort of echo in my kitchen this week. It’s hard to describe, but the acoustics are definitely off. It’s this echo that reminds me that our floor experienced some serious trauma on Saturday – that, and the Read more
Right about now, our renovation project is scarily daunting for two very significant reasons: 1) There is sh#t loads to do and f@#K all spare time to do it in. 2) We have no money. Ok, we have a bit. Read more
There’s an ongoing conundrum at the Funny Little Bungalow. It concerns rubble; there’s just never enough. We currently have a neat little brick wall rising out of our pit. On one side, there’s still something of a moat. But on Read more
Ordinarily, I like conkers. Having read some very interesting books about the origins of the Horse Chestnut Tree, I can’t fail to see each and every silky brown shiny nugget as a most precious treasure, to be prized and stroked Read more
Tesco Man visited us again today. He was impressed, I think, that the plankage leading to the front door no longer bowed in the middle when he carried his load across. I smugly declared that we were “making progress”, and Read more
The Four Little Seymours have just had a splendid weekend. They attended a posh wedding, got to dress up smart, and stay in a hotel. The hotel was a Victorian manor house, complete with suits of armour, wood panelling, four Read more
Upon moving out into the countryside, the Four Little Seymours were warned that we might not get as many visitors popping in to see us as we did when we lived in Suburbia. They were disappointed. They loved greeting their Read more
I like to hoover. I really do. I suppose I should say that I like to dyson. But dysoning does not and will not ever sound right. So I hoover. Frequently. Not that you’d really notice. Last weekend, when Big Read more