All work and no play makes Alf a dull boy.

I'm worn out. As usual. After a day of graft and a fight through the intense tube strike traffic on my bike, I got home, made a cup of splosh and got to work sanding the living room floor. Just as my arthritic hands had turned to jelly and my back was ready to snap, in walked Clare and Alice with an ice cream from the best ice cream van in East London. Down tools and relax.