Winter Drawers on - Anyone?

I did something truly uncharacteristic yesterday evening.

Now that NaNo’s over and there’s no utter urgency to make a dash for the keyboard armed with a nice cup of tea and some Digestives, I watched a bit of catch-up TV and ‘Rebus’ ( is it me, or is anything Ken Stott in, always incredibly absorbing?) and darned.

I swear to god, I darned. I licked the end of my piece of cotton, double-threaded it and darned away to my heart’s content. Well, maybe “content” is pushing it a bit - but I darned, damnit. And that’s got to be a feat in itself, right?

I should have know this was going to happen because at work that morning I’d even felt my eyes widen in interest – INTEREST – at a colleague who was waxing lyrical about these new oven cleaner things – you know the one with the TV tagline “so simple even a man can do it”? And she was telling me her husband had tried it and it had transformed her oven into something shiny and slinky and stainless steeley all over again. And I very nearly salivated – for I wanted some of that please… (not her husband shining up my oven – not EVEN my own husband performing this same feat) … but I had a strange desire to get down and dirty and polish up my oven.

I didn’t of course, because a trip to Sainsbury’s isn’t due ‘til tomorrow (I’m rationing my trips now I don’t like the car so much and that’s pretty much the only way I can get there and back) but it’s on my list!

And now my eyes aren’t fixed on the screen and in particular that ‘WordCount-ometer’ icon that’s taunted me for the past 30 days, I find my gaze now falls on the most innocuous of things like the state of the inside windows. The outside takes care of itself with a tenner a month to those nice boys who ‘do’, but the insides look like someone’s just thrown a load of bath scum dregs down them and then legged it before I notice. But I have. Noticed. Just now. Now that NaNo is over.

And the dust! I’ve said it before but dust only becomes a problem if it’s looked at.

So that’s pretty much going to be the line-up for the weekend I’m thinking.

Oven, windows, dust.

Oh god, pretty soon I'm going to be hoiking out me thermals and parading about wi' me mop an bucket wi' curlers in me 'air whistling 'The Girl from Ipanema'.