Pinny

I've been busy. The constant drizzle, and the widely varied bowel diseases that the dogs up and down my road like to exhibit copiously on my morning walk to the station are getting me down enough to blog about it. And, since when did my leisure wear of choice become a yellow pinny? It was my Grandma's pinny so it has Grandma-magic in it (when I put it on I tidy like a whirlwind).

I see myself, however, as more of a silk-pyjama and slippers girl in my "resting" hours; or, in sweatpants, energetically jogging, swimming and/or playing wii. Reality dictates mundane, more drab tasks.

The heaps of clothes I own are starting to tower over me with terrifying regularity. How can one person use so many dishes? wear so many..... pants? since when did 5 days of living mean two solid days of cleaning tidying and washing? I have lost track of all those craft activities I meant to do: this year will once more be devoid of hand made Christmas cards: my friend's birthdays slip by unnoticed: jewellery lies unrepaired, ideas, once sparkling, are gathering dust, and my artistic tendencies are becoming as scrawny and dry as the broccoli I attempted to grow.

Darkness gathers: the damp roads and houses of London are huddling together as winter approaches early. My duvet beckons......though it probably needs cleaning, too.