...And still have begged for more...

[desperance]

"Mr Brenchley, I fear you have a foul house."

"No, no, my lord, I assure you, parts of it are excellent."

...And parts of it, of course, still scrofulate a raw heron, because a man can't do everything.

Funny thing is, of course, a few days ago I thought I could. Even last night, going to bed in the conscious satisfaction of stuff done, things achieved, I thought today would be easy. A little light shopping, a little light hoovering...

Hah! I should know better. I do know better. It's coming up five o'clock and I have to leave in two hours, and... Well. Raw heron. Scrofula. Like that.

But I do have sight of the bedroom floor, which is something. Gives my guests something to walk on, that at least.

Now I shall tackle their bed. And then - well. That little light hoovering I mentioned? Like, a houseworth? Yup. That. It's a Balrog, and I am weary already.

Comments

[irishkate.livejournal.com]

tell me bout it... I can't swear I can see the bedroom floor in my room but I can see the living room floor again and the kitchen draining board. More will have to wait til tomorrow.

you should relax now and stop.