Hi. How Was Your Day?

SPUDS! (Photo credit: jiva)

I have had a busy day.  After a quick tidy of the house, I walked up to church.  After church I walked up to the art gallery (‘up’ is the correct word because Stockport is hilly) (‘walked’ is the correct word because that’s what I did), where I chaired a meeting of my writing group.

The Hub collected me just after one and we went to the pound shop in town, where we bought four boxes of 15 Finish dishwasher tablets (can’t miss them at that price) and a bottle of anti-dandruff shampoo (scaly little Spud).

Then it was on to Tesco to spend the third of our £10 off a £30 spend voucher.  We picked up quite a few bargains and then the Hub spotted a nice young lady doing further mark-downs by the marked-down shelf, so he asked her to further mark down the stuff in our trolley.  She cheerfully obliged.

I’m glad the Hub has a brass neck, even though I am so embarrassed by it that I have to walk away until the will-you-do-this-for-me-just-because-I-ask-it?/Yes-of-course/sorry-I-can’t transaction is over, because we spent £27.99 and saved £74.06.  We went a little over the £30 (can’t live without potatoes and a new shower curtain) and thus saved another £10 with our voucher.  I’m really warming to Tesco.

I paid it forward by telling a little old man who was scouring the marked-down shelf about the policy of taking stock that is expiring that day to a member of staff to be marked down, and I was rewarded by the nice young lady telling the Hub that the best bargains are to be found at ten a.m. every day…I think I’ve finally learned to enjoy shopping.

After Tesco we had to call in at Pet Smart because our fish are sitting, miserable, on the bottom of the tank, and the Hub thinks it’s too much something scientific-sounding in the water and needed to buy something equally scientific-sounding to cure it.

Once home, I snarfed down a £4 hot pot that cost me a £1 and was the most delicious ready meal I’ve ever tasted – not that I’ve tasted many: not at £4 a shot.  Then it was time to decant the pork, lamb, chicken, beef and other stuff into bags, so I could squeeze them into a freezer that’s beginning to make me look like a slum landlord, so crowded as it is (as they are: I have two).

One restorative cup of Earl Grey (decaffeinated) tea later and it was time to walk the dogs with Spud.  By this time I was Christmastired.  Christmastired is as tired as it’s possible to get without falling down.  It has its roots in six-year old Spud not falling asleep until four a.m.  on Christmas Eve and waking at five a.m. on Christmas morning, determined to make us share every moment of his hysteria despite the month-long shift we’d put in as Santa’s real little helpers.

I told the family to fend for themselves (dinner will be a large bowl of cereal each, I’m guessing – oh the irony); climbed into bed at a quarter-to-six, and I have been reading for an hour.  I thought I would just say ‘hi’ to my dear readers before I settle down to watch Dancing On Ice; and apologise for not posting today.

Hi.

Sorry.

Bye xx

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