Tuesday, 9 May 2017


Oh yesterday started very, very badly.  

Sunday's escapades in the allotment had left me with no choice but to head off to bed at 8.30.  Even the lure of a programme about Barbara Windsor couldn't tempt me from heading upstairs to oblivion. (I am being flippant here in case you're wondering). Snuggling into my newly changed bed linen, I very quickly passed out - so quickly actually, that I didn't get the chance to do what I normally do when I change the sheets.  Normal procedure is to use one pillow (the husband's) until he comes to bed.  I then quickly swap it over, so that I have another clean pillow to use. Naughty I know, but I bet there are a lot of you who do the same.  No?  Oh, just me then...

Anyway, there I was snoring my little old head off and dreaming about something completely off the wall, when Reg, The Bastard Schnauzer, started knocking at the door. This would have been around 2.30am.  As I struggled to get out of the bed (everything, and I mean everything, had seized up by then - imagine the Tin Man from The wizard of Oz, and you'd be close) my head went into free fall with a migraine of some substance.  

Staggering downstairs, with Reg swinging off my dressing gown tie, I knocked back several pills including my special pink one, which is only to be used in extreme circumstances.Heading back upstairs, I decided to sleep in the dogs' bed, knowing that there was the high chance that I would be getting up again, and I hate to disturb the husband.  I say this, but as he manages to sleep/pretend to sleep though the whole Reg door knocking debacle, I'm not too sure why I am worried about waking him up as I tiptoe around the bedroom like a middle aged fairy in slippers.

Anyway, there I am snuggled into the dogs' bed (I should explain that this is the once bed of daughter number two) when suddenly both of the dogs re-positioned themselves around the new occupant.  I now had one of them lying right next to each leg, which meant that I was unable to move.  After some hushed muttering with no success, I eventually ended up moving the pillow to the side of the bed and sleeping at a rather obtuse angle, with one foot dangling over the side of the mattress.

I think they woke me around six times after that with their ablutions, scratching and bickering, and I was almost glad to hear the husband's alarm clock go off at 5.45.  

I managed to get into Binland and to stay awake for the whole time I was there.  No mean feat when you are listening to rubbish all day.  But I was very glad to get home, and I had an early night to end all early nights.

So early, it was almost a late afternoon...

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