Wipe out...

And so another lovely weekend comes to an end...

Of course, when you no longer have to haul your sorry carcass out of bed before the birds are even showered, then that old 'Monday feeling' seems rather null and void.  The odd thing about this retirement lark is that I still wake up with the Husband (mine, and not someone else's in case you're wondering) and feel that I have to get going with something before he leaves for his work.  So this morning, before 9am, I have managed to walk the furballs, do a food shop and sell several items of clothing which are no longer needed.

I'm sure that you've all done this on ebay or similar, but it's been a revelation to me.  All the work dresses and formal shirts, the shoes and boots have all headed downstairs to my office, where they have been photographed and described and put up for sale.

I've managed to sell a few bits so far, but you know, it's not the actual sale that gives me a buzz.  Nor is it the neat wrapping which I love doing.  No ladies, it's the Lidl Locker Drop Off which I am totally in love with.  

Have you ever used one of these?  They are very straightforward, but a matter of opportune timing is required should you wish to leave the lockers without getting a lacerated shin (that was Thursday afternoon) or an almost black eye (this morning).  You see, once you have added your details onto the handy screen, one of the locker doors just pops open.  Now the locker wall is around three meters wide and two meters tall and it holds around fifty separate lockers.  There is no knowing which door is going to swing open, so I have learned that a small step backwards is needed before you complete the transaction on the screen.

Which is all very well, but I was not blessed with Bubbles the Chimp arms so I am sure that I look extremely dodgy leaning into the screen at a 45 degrees angle.  Actually, I am sure it's just a matter of time before the lovely folk in Lidl call someone from the Welfare to tell them about the drunk lady listing again their lockers and muttering, 'Right you bastard, which one is it going to be this time?'

I'm not sure how long it will be before the husband starts realising that his stuff is going the same way.  He's worse than I am at hoarding (hard to believe, I know) but there are items of clothing I have found which predate this millennium, so I doubt he'll miss them.

And it's all in a good cause.  

My winter wardrobe as the days get colder...