What a load of rubbish

Ooooh it's sunny. Oh no, that means I'll have to do some gardening and I was going to spend the day tipping out my wardrobe and ruthlessly throwing stuff out. This usually results in a beautifully tidy cupboard full of things that don't fit. Mr Smith has not gone to golf. He is at the tip. I am not exactly sure what he has taken to the tip because I am looking at a huge amount of rubbish that hasn't vanished. I think it might be one flimsy bit of paper representing his past employment. This is obviously cathartic for him and a sign that he is moving on. Good boy. I am working again tomorrow which fills me with a sense of foreboding. Olympic traffic plus a load of people who couldn't care less what happens to the phone boxes. Actually, the artists care and they come and repair and chat which is lovely. Just pay me and make me happy. I haven't yet mended Lidia's stork. It's actually a plastic heron with serious leg issues. The Apprentice son rang from France yesterday. He is to grace our shores at the end of next week. I might muck out his room in readiness. I might not.