My weekend was, in theory, going to be a time of R&R. I was on my own for the first time in ages, with Dr. T off with her mother in Bristol, and my sister-in-law Jo doing Mum duties in Suffolk. I could put my feet up, relax and enjoy myself a little. It was time to watch some movies, play some computer games, potter around with my video and photos and mix it up with some light blogging. In the end, I did none of those things.

Instead, I found myself dusting, organising, cleaning hovering and vacuuming. Why? Because I found myself unable to chill out when I had so many “needs doing” jobs staring me in the face. The jobs were insistently there, They lurked on the edge of my conciousness annoying me. In the end, I gave up trying to chill, and attacked them with some passion. And, much to my surprise, I rather enjoyed it.

Perhaps I’m finally hitting that stage of adulthood where you do the household chores because you want to, and you like the results, rather than through a mixture of guilt and obligation. This will all be good news for Dr. T, I suspect, who has been waiting for signs of growing up since we got married…

Which is all a rather long-winded way of saying “sorry for the lack of posts recently”.

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