Welcome to my perfumed garden

I  forgot to buy filler. Mark has ventured out - Gods, it's awful out there, crashing rain and wind a howlin' down the chimney like some old Blues singer.

I've helped Mark shift stuff as best I can, nothing major, just all the nick-nacks (OK, I freely admit , I don't trust him to move the precious things of the shop. If he'd damaged my Venezuelan paperweight there'd be no telling what I might do). I've wrapped everything in bubble-wrap and boxed it carefully, moved pictures and mirrors and plaster images of de sun and de moon (lawks a lawdy, I have some weird shit in my house! hee!). Shifting the furniture - mostly inherited, mostly Victorian, all of it solid and very, very heavy - that's his department. Even shifting the blanket bags has done me in and I'm sitting downstairs, nursing coffee, contemplating crumpets, resting the injury.

::flails fists and wails at the sky:: Why have you done this thing to me now? Heck, it couldn't have happened at a worse time though, with one eye on the news, my own petty concerns have faded into quantum insignificance .

Anyway, Mark's back at B&Q, next door's cat has come in out of the rain. Thus ends this update.