Life's been a bit hectic at my place this morning. I opened the vertical blinds in the spare bedroom and the pelmet, or cornice, or whatever it's called, fell down with a crash, hitting my hand on its way by. It's now lying in several pieces on the bedroom floor and I'm nursing a bruised thumb.
After a restorative cup of tea, I started in on the laundry, beginning with a pile of dirty nappies. When I moved them, I found that the bottom of the tub they'd been sitting in was black with crawling ants. It was like something out of a horror film. You know that moment when the violin screeches and you know you're about to see something nasty and gory? It was like that. I washed the ants down the drain and washed the nappies in the hottest, soapiest water I could produce, but I still feel creepy and itchy a couple of hours and a shower later.
I've given up on housework and am listening to This Sceptered Isle (a history of Britain) on the BBC – I figure sitting quietly in my lounge is the safest thing to do….