It Never Rains

Hello, dear readers!

Hot enough for you?

To be fair, that opening line would have been much better placed on the blog post that was scheduled for yesterday.

Since then, it seems to have cooled significantly, until a point has been reached (in this house, anyway) where I can at least consider wearing more than just my chundies while I write. (please note, this does not guarantee I’m not sat in said underwear, and as for the mental imagery, you’re welcome).

It’s just a shame it didn’t cool to this degree whilst I spent all day in my car.

In With The Old

Hello, dear readers!

And welcome to what may, hopefully, be the end.

Not that I’m glum about it. In fact, if truth be told, I’m more than happy about the coming apocalypse; partly as it has nothing to do with me and partly because it has a lot to do with one Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson, our alleged Prime Minister.

So, shall we?

Trap One

Hello, dear readers!

Who would have ever thought that having a new roof put on the house would have provided subject matter enough to fuel not one, not two, but four separate blog posts.

Not me.

And yet, here we are, three-and-a-bit weeks later, still feeling the repercussions of taking those steps to make our little house wind-and-waterproof. Not because of the work itself, or even the skip and scaffolding that hung around for far too long. No, in fact it’s not the roof itself that’s the issue at all.

It’s the cat.