We’ve been invited to go on a houseboat for a few days.
Lucky hey?
Not so lucky is my recent gas problem.
I may find myself being thrown to the crocs.
I blame the detox I attempted. Downing 500ml of neat tabasco can play havoc with the guts.
Not recommended.
My lovely man has, so far, made no comment. Bless him. Isn’t he a treasure? He is hard of hearing thank goodness. Hopefully he also has a severe cold.
He has mentioned a few times how pleasant the (sunny) spare room looks at this time of the year. In this fridge of a house.
I’m not sure if there is a connection or if I’m invited.
I wouldn’t invite me. Lethal.
I am starting to suspect that I’ve actually died and my brain is just taking a while to catch up.
Because, you know, there are emails to answer.