Welcome to my perfumed garden

That pink is so PINK O:!

So, I bought the wrong shade of paint. Bit of a cock-up on the decorating front*. We were in a hurry, I was being harassed* and I gave the good lady of B&Q the wrong colour card so now I've wasted £18 and two hours of my life painting my kitchen like Barbie's boudouir. ::heaves a heavy and heartfelt sigh:: If anyone out there needs 2 litres of Dulux Thai Dream #5, you know where to come.

So in a moment, we have to drive back to bloody B&Q for the correct colour, a nice (I hope) warm orangey, terracottery not too pink, pink. Might as well get the green for the stairs while we're there, I suppose. I can undercoat the stairs when we get back so the day isn't entirely wasted but...

::sighs again::.

I did get to listen to the most excellent Afternoon Play whilst defacing my kitchen; The Last Days of Grace by Nick Warburton.
Easter Monday 1908 sees snow on the ground as WG Grace contemplates another day in his long cricketing career. Arriving at the Oval, the ageing icon cannot bear to sit in the clubhouse to meet the usual people. Instead, he trudges out into the cold to face a different type of questioning. It'll be on Listen Again for a week if anyone's up for 60 minutes of spanking radio drama.

Anyway, tea's all drunk - back to B&Q and the painting I suppose. See you all at supper time. ::waves::


*Ooh missus! Two seventies sitcom references in the one post! A virtual Toblerone to the first to tell me which they are!

has inspired me to try the politics meme.

( So I'm a... )

Not terribly surprising really, I suppose. I know you get more right-wing as you get older but I still know all the words to the Red Flag. Vive la chardonnay revolution, say I ::waves fist in air in a rather half-hearted, embarrassed and English fashion:: Has anyone seen my copy of The New Statesman? I'm sure I left it lying around here somewhere. Under this plate of olives and the Pie D'Anglois perhaps...