The invalid miscreant is still laid up in his brother’s bedroom waiting for his bones to mend. We took the opportunity to clear out his old room and give it a couple of coats of white emulsion.
When I say we, I mean my wife and the youngster. I was preparing and cooking the perfect Sunday roast chicken, doing laundry and washing dishes. I did find time to unscrew shelves, noticeboards and coat hooks, but I delegated the painting of the ceiling to the youngster so that my chicken breasts would be perfectly bronzed.
I tootled off to Mela on the bike after lunch and wandered among the crowds sampling a variety of cooking styles and listening to the music in Botanic Gardens.
I returned in time to put stuff in the garage and Skype my mother and sister-in-law (belle soeur sounds more affectionate.) They had dined at a pub/restaurant with a view of the river Thames (see picture) and returned home with a doggy bag full of mixed meats.
The miscreant’s bedroom will now be a study, once we decide which desk is the best fit.
These family upheavals are often fraught with tension and this was no exception. Some quality huffing and choice language made the day memorable.
odespinner 