Seems to have been unnaturally busy around these parts, though if you’d asked me to provide details of my activities, I be pretty much at a loss to remember what they have been.
But on with the … very minimal content.
Joaquim continues to terrorise the parsley, unabated.
Joe/Frank refers to him as the adorable pest.
We should be well pleased that he is not tearing holes in the walls … yet.
Don and I arrived home on Thursday evening to discover that Joe/Frank had dropped a casserole dish and effected a cunning repair:
We’re thinking of making an offer for a property. The conveyancer is reviewing the contract. We’re not terribly confident our offer will be accepted, but it is very scary, grown-up stuff nonetheless.
More details as they come to hand.
Honestly, could I get more middle-aged?