This morning before work I make my breakfast and enjoy it, and then my lunch because I didn't make it last night. Before I put my makeup on and get dressed I finish loading the dishwasher and run it and clean those last few un-dishwasherable things in the sink and sip my coffee with pleasure.
I go to the gym over a late lunch, even though we had a meeting at noon and technically that was lunch.
I shop a little on the way home. It's hot, and I'm glad to get in. I try a new recipe for cauliflower fritters and decide I might try them again but with certain changes, like ditching the garlic and adding some onion and something bitey like mustard and/or chili powder. While the things are cooking I sort the laundry and throw a load in.
I don't have today's picture yet so after I've cooked and eaten, I go for a walk over to the Toronto Music Garden. It's much changed from the two weeks since I've been there last – plants are spilling everywhere and there's a rowdy bird party going on in the trees. I shoot a bunch of shots, and decide I should walk back home and then wonder, why? Why leave a garden in a hurry?
When I do get home I go down to the parking garage where my bike is sitting in many layers of dust and dirt. I give it a good washing down and pump up the tires and I'm tempted to take it for a spin but I'm thinking of the shape of my kitchen after the new recipe tryout and the laundry that needs to be transitioned from washer to hanger-up thingy or dryer.
I deal with the laundry and I clean up the kitchen and take a shower and sit down to sort out the photos. I'm glad I didn't take too many.
Suddenly it's bedtime and again I didn't get around to visiting blogs or responding to comments on mine and I STILL didn't shorten those pants, and my place STILL looks a mess. But one couldn't fault me for not stopping to smell the roses. And tomorrow's another day.
I love your title and the bird on the first lamp post. The whole thing is a poem in itself. Lovely!
Aw, thanks pal! I liked how that bird turned out too.
Household chores can wait after all…only dull women have perfect homes and you, lovely lady, are not dull!
C x
Chores shmores. That’s what I say.