There's no dollar sign on a piece of mind...

So, after an evening of partaking of a glass of soda in the public house within which the Tooliebelle works.... and I must say we were exceptionally impressed by her ease of service... i took a long lie this morning. I do like a nap.

I busied myself in the afternoon, and affronted myself twice in front of the neighbours.

First off, I underwent some gardening. Now grassy gardening is okay. Gardening on drive, not so good. My joints don't take concrete so well, and after 15 minutes of sitting on the drive, I had to move, but couldn't. I tried shouting Si, to no avail, so I had to lay down on my back, roll right over on to my belly and scrambled up.

Secondly, I attacked the porch roof. It is badly in need of a repaint, the last attempt I made on it, I painted it with half curdled wall paint on it, which has resulted in a rather unattractive half peeling, half lumpy effect.

I called for my step ladder, and clambered up as high as I could with out scaring myself, and then began to scrape. I scraped and scraped, and paint went in my eye, and in my hair and down my front, but I didn't stop.

By the time I finished it was looking pretty good, and I figured I'd climb down to take a look at it from a distance.

I began to climb down the ladder, and as I almost reached the bottom, I glanced down to check that my feet where steady. I had made it down to the last step, with the hem of my shirt hooked over the top rung. The bottom of my shirt was level with my head.

And I didn't have a bra on.

I am so, so, so, very sorry neighbours. Again.