Its 10 past nine on thursday night.
There's no getting round it..it has to be done.
I've put it off since September.
Its the IRONING
A huge great mountain that became a roomful.
I have decided to bring it all downstairs, put the telly on and iron.
Its not as if I am particularly well groomed or smartly turned out . I just have a lot of tee shirts from my hot flush days.
I have been wondering whether to show you this.
Go on then.
Me sewing behind my stall.
I am shocked that in the picture my mouth bears a strong resemblance to Wallace when he says 'No Crackers Gromit' and my hands look like hams. And in general I look like the sort of anonymous 'lady' mentioned.
I'm sorry your dreams of a tall elegant stylish dogdaisy are now in pieces.
I felt quite old and untrendy that day but still enjoyed it.
Back to the pile up.
As I carried the pile downstairs I gathered other piles of washing from around the house, it was like a huge juggernaut progressing towards the ironing board and it now sits next to me as I procrastinate further.
I am not going to bed till its done.
As I stepped off the bottom step into the hall I realise that the piece of burnt toast I had given to Willow had at that very moment been dropped on the hall floor just where I was about to put my foot.