Easter Eve

'Twas the night before Easter, and all through the house...well, if that house is our house, then all through the house it smells like bleach and paint and upstairs, new carpet.

I used to watch House Doctor avidly. I loved that evil Californian bitch woman. But I did wonder about the 'fixes', thought maybe they were pulling the wool over the eyes of prospective house buyers.

Now I realise that the opposite is true. What you actually do when selling a house is all the little jobs you never got around to do for your own comfort.
That bit of skirting board that needed an extra coat of paint, that builder's carpet that you should have replaced ages ago, those holes from something that used to be on the wall that you never got around to filling. That picture that has just sat there waiting for the perfect frame.

Tomorrow will be a day of rest.
Tomorrow will be half a day of rest.
But only for me, Kevin will be cooking for six.
God bless him.