Eight not great

I had such high hopes for today *Sniffs forlornly*. I was up just after seven and getting ready to go to the early pilates class. Mum volunteered to walk Lyra whilst I was out. Everything was set for peak productivity for the rest of the day. And it just didn’t happen. Well the pilates did happen – the shoulders were pulled back and down, the ball was squeezed, the pelvic floor was engaged, but it was just not a love match. Nothing felt entirely right. I drove home in an incipient grump, head full of snot (sorry everyone, but I can’t think of a euphemism and even if I could I disapprove of them).

I decided to console myself with a special offer bar of pistachio chocolate, an old favourite audio book (Neal Stevenson’s the Vagabond King) and the arm of the only Christmas jumper for ten minutes before getting down to the essential business of the day. But the morning bled into the afternoon and before I knew it the sleeve was almost done, our hero had escaped a pack of mushroom fuelled witches and was heading for a Bavarian silver mine, I was doubtless a kilo heavier and none, but none, of the scheduled jobs had been commenced. I thought, for at least three minutes, about calling the insurance brokers – I really did. But that was the beginning and end of it. In a sad attempt to wrest success from the jaws of “whatever” I pivoted to a bit of embroidery with the half formed thought of trying out the threader for the teeny tiny beading needles that arrived from Amazon’s inexhaustible treasury of weird stuff yesterday. Well I’ve not made it much further forward with that either.

The sauce has now broken through the topping of my moussaka in a bad way.

To add insult to injury, in an attempt to secure some late productivity I have now submitted mum’s meter readings wrongly. The numbers for gas and leccy were confusingly similar…..

None of this is screaming Santa’s little helper….It seems there’s little for it but to draw stumps, start again tomorrow and take some benefit from the sense of urgency created by the imminent arrival of mum’s carpet fitters.

** Pause for salad making **

On reflection, the day has not been wholly without progress – I did successfully order a toilet seat after all. And wait – the moussaka seems to have recovered it’s mojo. I shall pause now and delay pressing post in case of some miracle after dinner…

** Pause for face stuffing **

The new beading needle is actually quite straightforward to thread! I have sewed a few sequins by way of tester and all is looking good. Still feel pretty lousy but I am quite sure moral fibre will be restiffened come the morning. Mondays are always problematic. Tuesdays however, especially rainy Tuesdays, are full of promise…

Today’s quiz question: What are Italian priest stranglers? 
Yesterday’s answer: Pannage is the separate tenement right (separate from ownership of the land) to graze your pig on fallen acorns in a particular place. OK yes that’s obscure….but aren’t you glad you now know?