Busy. Lots of busy. Not enough time and too much grumpiness.
We celebrated the start of British Summer Time yesterday - a name that is one of the greatest triumph of hope over experience ever - with a hot water bottle and bed socks and a game of hunt the clock.
Those clocks and watches are wily. We do have a couple of nice radio controlled clocks that change automatically but there are a whole lot more lurking in dusty corners of the bathroom and disguising themselves as telephones and mp3 players and scary robot birds. They have to be rounded up and forced to change but occasionally one sneaky little watch will hide and Madame only finds out that it is clinging to GMT when she is late for an important appointment.
I'm thinking it's time for a major lifestyle change. I'm thinking tiger skin rugs and Eartha Kitt ...
