We’re having a day off today, the first we’ve managed for while. Naturally my thoughts turned to a lie in, leisurely breakfast and some light shopping. Julia is working this evening, so the trip to Stoke on Trent will have to wait until we can organise a full day. That’s Julia’s annual treat – touring factory shops. It’s an annual event for me too, though I find it falls short of treat status.
Hopefully we will have several more days off before Christmas because it’s been busy recently, and with Julia working weekends it’s easy to let the week slip by without taking time off. My workload is such that Julia says it will be difficult to tell the difference when I retire. I dispute this, but am willing to admit that I’m not going to win any prizes for industry.
Anyway, my plans all came to nothing. I woke early by accident, and as I was wondering what to do about this undesirable state of affairs, I was hit by the jobs list. Seems she’s been planning it for a while. Mostly standard stuff, and I did my normal nodding dog routine until…
“Your books in the living room need sorting out, and taking to the charity shop.”
She’s always had this unreasonable prejudice about me stacking books on the floor. To her, it’s an eyesore. To me it’s a logical place to put books, and it doesn’t involve a trip to IKEA for a bookcase calle Billy. ( I’m in total agreement with the Lancashire Hotpots on the subject of IKEA. Follow this link to find out what they think).
This quickly turned nasty.
“But me no buts, you pusillanimous worm. If you don’t have shelf space you can’t keep them.”
(She didn’t actually use those words, but you could tell she was thinking them).
So I’m working slowly and stacking carefully. With any luck I’ll get away with a few dozen books, particularly if I cook a large lunch.
I do so love these rare days off…