The Bomble-ster.

Here's Bomble, our eleven-year-old and mostly toothless rescue cat (Asian British Bombay, if you please) in the kitchen, stalking me as I attempted to make apple sauce.

Today was SOOOOO boring. I decided to not go to work (I didn't have a choice about nursery because of the sickness rules) at either job because I felt quite exhausted still, and hadn't really slept. So I stayed lying down, while the weather was bloomin' lovely outside, but I didn't have the oomph! to get up and potter in the sunshine.

A middle-aged man called around to read the electricity meter. He looked at my un-stylish slobbing-around gear disparagingly, even though he himself was wearing a car coat. I exacted revenge by saying

"I hope you're good at climbing"

before explaining that he would have to squeeze in between the narrow gap between the sofa arm and the desk, and then get into the cupboard, stand on a paint pot, while not being bumped in the back of the legs by a boxed-up kitchen sink!

That was the highlight of my day. That, and having discovered I can watch now catchup series of Outnumbered....