By an odd combination of circumstance I took my cooker to the theatre the other night. A disappointing evening as Derek Jacobi, who was due to perform as King Lear, had lost his voice due to illness and the show was cancelled.
The cooker and I returned home and had an early night in the end.
The main feed pipe to my new radiators is slowly creeping along its preordained path. I follow the careful dictum of measure twice and cut once.
In the back of a Shop in St Asaph my shiny new Rayburn has arrived. It gleams redly inside its packaging.
Down in the valley a man plans how much shale should be delivered to fill the ruts on my track.
She Of The Townhouse fiddles with her new Bilberry but steadfastly refuses to consider backing it up.
And here I sit surrounded by unawareness of the fact that there is a referendum here on Thursday.
So I creep towards conservatism.
Maybe it is time to get back in to the gym....