I just had to double check what day of the week it is. Apparently it’s Sunday. I imagine those reading this will divide into two camps – those that know what day it is, and those who haven’t thought about it since several days before Christmas. Those that know can go away – we don’t need that kind of smugness around here.
After a quiet couple of days at home eating outselves to a standstill, today has brought an abrupt end to the peace and quiet – with two of our daughters deciding to swap wardrobes. Only one problem – one of the rooms is upstairs, and the other downstairs – so I had to somehow engineer passage of a huge-ass wardrobe up the stairs, and then reverse the process for an even bigger wardrobe down the stairs.
We won’t talk about the health and safety implications of me pushing the first wardrobe up the stairs balanced on my head. I got the idea after watching porters loading trains in India. If they can balance motorbikes on their head, I thought “I can manage an empty wardrobe” – and I was more or less correct. Let’s see if my neck agrees with me in the morning.
Of course now the entire house looks like we’ve returned home after being robbed. Entire rooms are in pieces – piles of “stuff” everywhere. Where the hell did it all come from?
In other news, I’ve decided to put the brakes on writing at the “other place”. I’ve pretty much run out of stories to tell or recycle at the moment – and it strikes me that manufacturing listicles, or mansplained “how to” articles would make me no better than the army of grifters currently polluting the internet. I’ll write when I have something to say, and not before.
I hope you had a good Christmas – we did. A very quiet Christmas, but a good one all the same. We are well, we have food, and a roof over our head. Everything else is a bonus really.