It can’t possibly be work tomorrow, where did the Easter weekend go? And I haven’t as yet cracked winning the lottery so it looks like I’ll have to go back again.

Saturday and Sunday were spent walking. I found a website with some local walks - places that I didn’t know existed and are only a few miles away. We’re getting into this walking malarkey, not quite ready to join the Ramblers yet – I think we’re more Amblers if anything.

I also have to admit that I lied. I said that the Bluebells weren't out yet. They are in Shrawley Wood.

Mind you, I'm not the only webpage stating untruths. When I printed off one of the walks from that website it stated that it was 3.5 miles. Bollocks, like heck it was. It was at least 5 miles and I think after we got back to the car I'd have sworn an oath stating it was more like10 miles.







Strangely enough, these walks centre around a pub too. Not that Fern cared very much, she wasn't even interested when the sandwiches arrived.


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The weekend also found me washing the covers off the sofas (riveting stuff this blog, isn’t it?). It seemed a really good idea at the time to buy sofas with removable covers – what with cat, dogs, kids and even the odd duck (very odd – ducks shouldn’t want to be inside houses, it’s not natural) it made sense to get something that I could clean on a fairly regular basis.

Of course that was before I knew what a fight I’d have on my hands getting the covers on and off. It’s even worse than putting a clean duvet cover on. It doesn’t help matters when after you’ve washed, dried and managed to replace the cover that Himself decides to throw a mug of tea back over it. He was very popular after that.


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It also seemed a good idea at the time to book the dogs in for a hair cut on Bank Holiday Monday. Bev was working and it’s a right palaver getting three dogs, all walking in opposite compass directions, from the Co-op car park and down the street all by yourself. They appear to be playing some sort of game. How many pedestrians can we trip up? Himself was going to be at home so he could help me for a change.

After spending three quarters of an hour sat in traffic travelling all of five miles, I’ve decided that it was a bloody stupid idea and God alone knows what the hell I was thinking at the time. Why anyone would what to spend the day in Sunniless Stourport beats me.