I'm not sure what kind of 'character' my husband had in mind when he suggested it'd be a good idea to take the protective cover off our wooden table and let it develop into something interesting. We've had a UPVC table cloth over a piece of blanket on it ever since the children were little. Warm plates couldn't mark it, works of art wouldn't leave felt-tip decorations or glue behind. The idea was that we should remove it for dinner parties but as we aren't dinner party sorts (more the tea and elbows types) there wasn't much point. Now everyone is older why not take it off? So we have . . . and water and heat and the indentation of pens are contributing enthusiastically to its character and I am furiously polishing it daily to stop its 'character' being its nemesis.
Which reminded me that this blog has 'housework' as one of its sub-titles - a flip idea because, in the general way of things, I don't do any. Briefly I've reformed. I've cleaned the carpets and the cooker, some of the windows; and the dining table. And, while I find the idea of 'decluttering' incredibly irritating (apologies enthusiasts) we decided it would be worth swapping some at least of our multitude of books for a few places to stand and a simpler route up the stairs.
Which takes time - along with gathering leaves from a massively moulting bay tree and the guilt-inducing watering of flowers and lots of re-potting and going on holiday . . .
Blogging is much more fun. Waffling is engaging. Hoovering is not.
Which (for the third time) is why blogging is better avoided when duty demands a burst of summer spring-cleaning . . . and when everything computer-related takes extra-long because the space bar has gone bolshy and the spell check's gone on strike.
Thought I'd say hello though.