So there I was, standing in the dining room, doing my ironing, and gazing out at the rain, wondering what the heck I was going to blog about today, when suddenly the theme of the day dawned on me.
This morning I had to take Cassie to the vet, to have her annual jabs and deworm tablet, it was a bit of a struggle, but with Rog's help and an old towel wrapped over her head, we managed to get her into her carry-basket. No photo of her in it though, you'll just have to take my word for it.
Next, of course, as I already mentioned, I was doing my ironing, and as there didn't seem to be too much today, I actually got it all finished in one hit, so the unironed basket is empty and the ironed basket is full.
Then there was the parcel that arrived for Rog, he said I could open it for him, and guess what was inside the box? Yes, you've guessed it, a basket. This is to fit inside the door to catch the post as it drops through the letterbox. For historical (and hysterical) reasons, we dont have a letterbox in our front door, instead it's in the side door into the garage, and for nearly two years now we have just had a big cardboard box on the floor to catch the post, which we then have to move each time we want to go in or out through the door.
And by way of a P.S. and nothing remotely to do with baskets, as its slightly cooler today Oli decided to wear jeans instead of the floral beach shorts he's been living in since he arrived. He came downstairs and accused me of shrinking his jeans, as he couldn't do them up round the waist - and I have to put my hands up and admit, yes I have shrunk his jeans. But not with the washing machine. I have been feeding him decent meals for the last three weeks, and Rog has been buying him beers, and he has done little or no exercise apart from down and up the stairs for food and trips to the fridge, so its no wonder his jeans are too small, or rather he's now too big for them!