Granny far from recumbant
Granny is busy trying to turn current shit heap known as her house, into lickitty split, shiny clean casa rurale for guests due to arrive on Thursday. This includes, among other things, trying to house in other than room now designated as guest bedroom about 20 (no exaggeration) bags, big ones little ones medium size ones that Beloved seems to regard as essential to his life (It's one reason he can never find anything. Injured tone: 'I put it away of course. In my bag!' 'Which bag?' 'I've no idea.' Quite.)
'I've left them 3 drawers. Surely that's enough?'
'No, Beloved, it isn't.'
(Guest coming to equivalent of small hotel and paying for it, does not expect to have to dispose of their gear amid drawers stuffed with sundry office accoutrement- in triplicate -and more drawers full of spare paper, files etc -also in triplicate- Let alone 20 bags.) GROAN.
'Beloved why do we need three packs of (eg) computer paper? '
'For emergencies, of course. In case we run out.'.. (Ask a silly question....)
Granny has discovered that best method is to wait till Beloved goes out then remove everything. It is done. But is just one of many tasks. Not she least she is doing the cooking for the next two nights, so she can be certain of meals requiring the dirtying of one saucepan/frying pan/casserole rather than the entire (ENTIRE) complement of the kitchen. (Or thereabouts.) So for the moment friends, family, whoever, will have to content themselves with photo of (more or less) recumbant Beautiful Wimp and Tiresome Terrier. Recumbant Granny isn't. Let alone an active Blogger. Back soon.