Retail inlet

My mad impulsive internet purchases keep arriving.  They are all very large.  I am having difficulty hiding them from Mr Smith.  I got a huge table because it was cheap on eBay and put it together .... upside down.  It has a large gouge out of one corner which it will now have forever. I am so cross.  I am awaiting delivery of an ugly chair that in a hip moment I thought was retro. The new washing machine looks a bit rubbish.  I can't plumb it in or do the electrics.  It will sit in the middle of the kitchen until all our clothes smell or I get the Apprentice back from France.  Mr Smith loves laundry.  I will find a laundrette for my clothes and enjoy having a kitchen island.

The next things to be delivered are a big hairbrush, a ham stand and some linen that I don't really want and some mad snazzy square pillowcases in no known size.  And Mr Smith, back from golf.

France Vacance

Monsieur Et Madam Smith are going to Pareee to veezeet ze sights.  So exciting.  Can't remember when but sometime next month to take our minds off this mad house buying business.  Then when we get back it can start all over again.

Mrs Smith's top things to do in Paris

1.  Buy a guide...... Then we'll work it out from there.

Vision of loveliness

Mr Smith is still in France golfing.  It is raining here so it probably is there too (teehee).  The sheets are on the line .. Groan.  This housework thing doesn't suit me at all.  I wanted to decontaminate the place for his return.  Can't think why as he never notices.

Yesterday I was Princess Perfect.  I cleaned and preened, took myself to the hairdressers, walked, swam, finished the crossword and detoxed myself.  I then decided to have a night away.  I packed up a few things and set off ... to the spare room.  It is lovely in there and I slept like a bit of dead tree.  I had great ideas for my sitting room at new house.  I will use the lovely pale blue and pink kelim from the spare room with a big pale blue sofa, pink and beige cushions and lots of arty books.  Curtains to be decided.  Mmmm need measurements.  Need house.

And now my last day of freedom before my master returns.  I will tumble dry things and do messy sewing.

Stuff

I am supposed to be looking for a house for the boys as we got outbid on the previous one.  Why should I?  I am not well, my chest hurts and I do not want to look at hovels without them.  Because if I don't they will come to live with us in Kent.  The whole point of moving is to get shot of them.  Ok then Right Move it is.

Found beautiful sofas in Putney.  I just need a house then I can buy lovely things to put in it.  In the meantime Mr Smith is very keen on me having his brother's old stuff. Ok I will consider the dining table but not his sofa.  I want my own.  Call me picky.  I don't want any of his mother's horrible brown furniture either.  Just so you know.  I'm a House & Garden girl. Actually, can't afford anything in H&G ... at all.  Perhaps I will look in Argos catalogue.

I think it's time for some Internet purchases.  That cheers me up considerably.

Hack hack

Mr Smith went away to the sea without me where he had a very blustery time.  I stayed behind and tried to figure out some very complicated instructions for a patchwork quilt.  V tricky.  I also developed my cough into something truly irritating.  It hurts.

Walked a hundred miles today as was trying to show off to WLR friend.  Now I ache and the cough hacks on; it is just mildly annoying.

I might die.  There again I have a new house to buy, and some parking vouchers to get tomorrow.  So maybe I will postpone my end.  It's just this damned cough.  Either it or Mr Smith might kill me; I do hope not.

Health check

I got so cold at the Opera and I had a funny turn in the second half when Ithought I might faint.  I didn't but I felt very sick.  I got better on the way home but I was amazed I managed to survive to the end.  Anyway, I now have a cold coming with a bit fat chesty thing making me feel ill.  Mr Smith is cleaning his gun.  They shoot horses, he says.

I took the boys to look at the house in Crystal Palace that I thought might be suitable.  Eventually after much tapping of things in a silly way they decided it would do, price permitting.

We have a surveyor coming to survey every inch of our cracked and leaking hovel.  I suppose as long as he doesn't write "Do not buy this property under any circumstances" it will be ok.  I am very worried about the little damp patch and that bit in the kitchen and the non working pump in the top bathroom and the shower door that is falling off and two disgusting boys lolling about with hangovers.  I remember the survey carried out on the very first house I lived in as a child.  My mother was very anxious and I was ill in bed with something like measles.  I remember the man tapping the wall above my bed and thinking he can't be serious.  That didn't seem much of a survey to me.

In the meantime the survey has been carried out on our house to be.  Riddled with worm, beetle and dry rot?  Apparently not.  Oh good.  It's old and looks as though it might.

Now, off to die.  I do not feel very well at all.

Sticky opera

Our house is to be surveyed on Friday.  How terrifying.  I suppose I had better clean it up.

Off to the opera today somewhere miles away in the depths of Hampshire. I hate opera but momentarily forgot and agreed to accompany Sensible Alison as her husband has gone to Iceland.  We are having dins in the interval.  It is so cold I hope it is a warming stew or something.  I am trying to stay off the booze so I hope bottles of wine have not been preordered or I will snore through the second half.

I am trying to fabricate a birthday cake for the Apprentice who will be 27 on Friday.  A very chocolatey kitchen and many crumbs is the story so far.  I will manage it somehow.  Off to the cake dec shop - found a new one.  Well, as long as I manage to scrape it all off before opera hour all will be well.