I’m supposed to be writing a blog. But it’s too hot. And I’m too tired… post-scout-camp, middle of summer scheme, mother of a three year old, owner of two lunatic dogs, and I’m nearly five months pregnant.
So, I’ve tidied the house, cleared up the aftermath of the 3-year-old’s bath, watered the plants (with his left over bathwater), put the rubbish out, harvested some cabbage from the garden, wondered whether butter-nut-squash will behave like a pumpkin if I try making it into jam (and then realised that I don’t have any sugar in the house), written a shopping list to go to the supermarket tomorrow (including sugar), made a savoury tart in anticipation of lunch tomorrow (including recently harvested cabbage), done the washing up, put a table and chairs outside for when Martin comes home from prison (hopefully any time now), and written a couple of emails.
It may be that the procrastination effort cost more energy than writing the blog.