The family dropped me at work this morning, and traveled back up north to see Auntie Jen, who goes back to the states in a few days time. I was able to spend the day having a small nap, then following it up with a massive burst of housework, which took even me by surprise. The house looked rather lovely when they arrived home at about ten this evening. I achieved little else during the day, but it felt good getting into bed this evening to read, knowing that the house was all taken care of. I have already stuttered a wee bit on the reading front, as my favourite comedian Richard Herring re-released his early book, Bye Bye Balham on the Kindle. I bought it, and have started to read it straight away, which means Mr Mitchell is now on hold. I really must stop doing this. I also witnessed a rather spectacular argument following a bump of cars in the supermarket car park. It has been a day of high drama clearly. I am delighted to have packed away the Christmas decorations, but found myself wondering of I would ever unpack them again! I am not sure what brought that on, but It got me to thinking about the dramatic possibilities of leaving a note to your family in the Christmas decoration box, that they would discover the following year. I think I need to stop thinking sometimes.
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