Recovery

I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. As usually happens when I’ve had a few drinks, I woke up at 6am feeling a bit rubbish. I managed to drag myself down to the kitchen and made a coffee. I then staggered, poodles clinging to my legs, into the lounge room where I collapsed in front of the TV. I watched Breakfast long enough to hear that the British entrant in Eurovision came last this year, while the German entry won. The next thing I knew it was 8:30am and my coffee was cold. The same news item was on the TV. It was like I’d been sucked into some time vortex thing where time moved but TV didn’t. I thought about this for a bit, thinking, perhaps I was in a Simpsons episode, and then went and made another cup of coffee.

After shopping and Mirinda’s weekly phone call, we spent a lot of the day in the garden except for the big slice we spent at the garden centre at Secretts. Mirinda loves walking right around the entire place before deciding what to buy. This takes about three days. Everything is then repeated with a trolley, loading it impossibly high. As usual we managed to buy everything except the one thing we had originally gone to buy – sweet peas for the obelisks.

We did overhear a woman who hates radishes to the exclusion of everything else. Radishes are the only thing she hates. Not world poverty, not stupid politicians, not even traffic wardens. No. The only thing, in the entire universe, that she hates…RADISHES. What a fantastic life she has.

I made pork with a pear and apple sauce for dinner and we watched two episodes of Dr Who before retiring. Lovely day.