|our walk home from Lytham on Saturday|
When I woke up this morning it really felt like I was on holiday. The room was warm, the bed was fresh and comfortable and I was so relaxed (even though I hadn't slept particularly well).
That is pretty much where the holiday feeling ended.
I came downstairs to discover Big Grey had been digging in the litter tray so the room was stinky to say the least.
We went out for brunch when we were in Liverpool and I had some amazing home made baked beans, so I wanted to make some myself. I tried the first batch last night, the sauce was ideal but the beans were cracky and not soft at all. Not to be put off, as I would have been in the past, I soaked more beans overnight and simmered them this morning ready to make another batch for brunch today. Same problem. So it has all gone into the bin, not impressed*.
I have to spend the morning posting parcels, collecting parcels, buying birthday cards, trying to find decorative things to stick into a cake, not eating home made baked beans, and lots of other little things that take up time but have no real positive impact on anyone's life. And I have to return a book to the library
I saw this on the "new books" stand a few weeks ago and decided to give it a go. I confess I haven't read it all, but have soldiered through most of it. I understand the premise, I understand why it is as it is, but I just can't get on with it at all. If I wanted to hear about blokes** complaining about their boring lives I'd just talk to my mates, I don't need to read about it. I think book reviewer is another to add to my list of careers I'm not suited to.
Hmm, looking at this whinge I'm starting to think maybe it's me that's in the wrong not everything else in the entire world. Who'd have thought! Time for another cup of tea and to restart the day.
* I've soaked and cooked beans dozens of times with success so this is a new one.
**or anyone else