It seems I picked a bad week to blog daily, as blogger had a bit of a wobble and went into read-only as well as deleting various posts and comments. Though the venture was probably doomed to failure, it's nice to be able to blame the technology instead of myself for a change.
So let's draw a line under last week. Back to today. It's been a busy Sunday, as Sundays always seem to be. It started with a frantic tidy-up ready for a house viewing. A house viewing where I managed to speak Welsh with the viewer (there's a lot of us ex-pats up and down the Thames valley). I also distinguished myself by saying 'this is the front door' after coming back through the house from the garden. It was as if I thought he might have become disorientated having walked through the whole house. Let's be clear, we haven't got a West wing or anything, we live in a very compact house (I mean, err, very spacious, light and airy blah blah). I managed to giggle only slightly before regaining estate agent-like composure.
Today I also cut a small boy's hair (the resident small boy, not a random small boy from the street) and the husband's hair. I upset the small boy by using a wet comb on his head and unnerved the husband by laughing most of the way through his, but they both seem to have come through unscathed.
This afternoon, I defrosted some ice-cubed portions of food I had made up for the baby. I thought she was getting pasta bolognese with a side order of sweet potato, which was maybe ever-so-slightly not masterchef. It transpired she was getting pasta bolognese with a side order of cod and sweet potato: definitely not masterchef.
This evening I performed bread surgery, making incisions in 3cm thick slices to make Bill's ham and gruyère French toast. It was very very good. A bit radical serving a breakfast dish for dinner, but I'm nothing if not radical (witness the bolognese and sweet potato with cod).
Tonight I ignored the ironing pile for so long that the husband is now working his way through it as I type.
Hope you had a good weekend.