POWDER PUFF

....... or not really, you wouldn't want to argue with it when he's in the wrong mood.

I delivered G to "the Skipton train" at 7:15 this morning for his trip to London and the annual engineering lunch.

I then waded through a mound of ironing, and yes, I know it is my fault that I let it pile up, but it was quite pleasant to be smoothing the creases away, listening to Radio 4, and not being in the usual rush to be somewhere else. As G was away for the night and I am at a straight edge at work, until the mayhem next week, I decided to take a day or two off. G always wonders at my taking holiday when he is away, but I like my own company, and a bit of peace and quiet now and then.

So once the ironing was finished I started on the present wrapping, which took up most of the morning. I phoned Hellonwheels for a chat and the intention then was to start on the Christmas cake - we are having an un-matured one this year. But instead I just thought I would make a birthday card and got so carried away with it that the cake will have to wait until tomorrow. One more day of non-maturing won't make any difference at this late stage.

G has phoned to say he is now at his hotel, and about to go in search of something to eat as the lunch was inedible. Which was unfortunate as it sounded as though he could have done with something to soak up the accompanying alcohol. He then said he was having a very early night.

Good idea I think, and I may too, all on my own and with No Snoring!