Mudslide...

Watching old 'Tresemme' at her press conference yesterday afternoon (get me being topical) I decided that she wasn't the only one having to make monumental decisions yesterday.

As you all know by now (if you don't, where have you been for the last three years?) I have two dogs who drag me around various parts of the countryside in pursuit of the perfect woofer walk.  Sometimes, these walks can start from my front door, but on many occasions a drive in my car is needed if we fancy going further afield.  This means having the two dogs on the back seat of my car, as funnily enough, my Mini has no boot.

Now the weather over the last few weeks has been the stuff of Noah, and subsequently the inside of my car had taken on the appearance of a grubby skip.  There was so much mud on the back seat that it looked like I'd had a particularly high tide and the floor mats had long given up any resemblance to luxury, instead looking like the floor of the hippos' enclosure at London Zoo.

So my decision yesterday was to get my car cleaned, but should I drive up to Tesco's and pay the nice man to do it, or should I save myself £50 and do it myself?  In case you're wondering what kind of car wash merits £50, you have to remember that there would have been the car wash itself (£20), a coffee and some cake (£5), fuel to get there (another £5) and the obligatory trawl around Next which would definitely have resulted in a purchase of some description (£20, although erring on the side of optimistic here).  In the end, I decided to wash it myself, but didn't take into consideration that at around 4.00, the sun sets like a brick, leaving me polishing off wax in semi darkness.

I think I made a pretty good job of it, although once the sun comes up later this morning, you may find me with a duster getting rid of the smears.

The dogs are banned for the foreseeable future.

I give this till Saturday...