Bean bags..not Bin Bags

The sofa went to a good home and we ummed and ahhed, and decided we could not decide! Mr P. sat on a thousand  of small sofas ( I will never get that day back) , and then we decided  our life  was just fine without one.  Also since we had to buy a cooker and a washing machine, that’s already 2 too many big purchases  for one season, when you are in downsizing mode.

Yesterday we bundled over to camden market  on the tube and bought a cheap faux leather, bright red bean bag to not go with the brown one we have already. Now are finally are a ‘two something family’. Not car or home, but a bean bag..a two bean bag family. The only thing about the bean bags ( I always call them bin bags) is that if you are without good quads (anatomy lesson, the big muscle in your thighs) you are well and truly, as stuffed as the bean bag. Mr. P is not blessed with goodly develped quads, so once he is in a bean bag, he is there, as they say, for the duration. When I am out and cannot give him a hand getting up, he just sits in his bean bag until I return. No food, no going to find the remote, just sitting in the bean bag. Ah well.

Today is a day off and so far I have managed to burn the soup, eat the burned soup ( Mr. P. was not so brazen)  go to Argos to buy some bedding for visitors coming this weekend,  pop to the  local farmers market  ( I  am still pinching myself that there is a farmers market near my house…what happened?) to buy vegetables which I then burned, but refused to throw away and violently sneezed throughout as it is national dusting day  here, as me and dust just do not mix.

I thought I might sort out my office again, as there is still absolutely no system for finding anything. I yearn for a little pinch of  the asbegery thang, anything that might make me put things  back where I found them, be a bit obsessive about where things live, have something alphabetical in my life instead of in a ever growing pile of things in no particular order. My labelling is also problematic, as I have  tried labelling files and then got fed up so quickly, one file had this label  pictured on it.

Enough about me! The moral of today’s post is, watch the soup, don’t think that someone else is watching it when you leave the room to check your emails, and if you boil the broccoli, don’t put it in the soup anyway.

SONG OF THE DAY –MacArthur Park -Richard Harris

Love Jimmy Webb, who wrote this song and many other amazing songs from the 60-70’s. This was voted worst song ever by some bloke called Barry in Michigan, after a long          (yawn) survey.  In my mind the worst and best are often interchangeable.  Over fifty artists have recordred this song including Diana Ross, Liza Minelli, Donna Summer and the Grimethorpe Colliery Band…oh sod it…they definately get my vote..sorry Mr Harris my coal mining roots and a load of very shiny instruments just won. This is just cracking…turn it up loud and scare all the neighbours…I am in love.