Lawn? LAWN? Not really!
Garden sheds are very vulnerable in our neighbourhood, so we keep our gardening stuff in the glory-hole under the stairs. And our decorating stuff, DIY, car maintenance, and shoe-polishing kit. It's stuffed full, in short, but we're grateful it's there.
What we NEED at the moment, however, is grass seed, and I wasn't prepared to buy any until I had established that there wasn't any in the glory-hole.
This morning I emptied and tidied the glory-hole, washed the floor and all kitchen surfaces (having raised a fair bit of dust), did three loads of washing and a generous load of ironing. I should explain that Cello-man came home from Cambridge yesterday evening, with every stitch of clothing requiring washing.
I also made Sunday dinner and set the bread-machine going.
In came SuperSpouse from playing at church, and I proudly told him my achievements. 'Hmm. Doesn't look any different if you ask me. And what do you expect, anyway? The jobs had to be done.'
Which is all very true, of course, and I am smaller, younger and bendier. But I'd like to have heard something like, 'Hey, you have been busy!'
We don't have any grass seed, either. I can say that with absolute certainty. But we won't be needing any for a while, because I'm too knackered to rake the lawn today.