Well, I've done it. What I couldn't put together over the weekend became a rather quicker thing to do yesterday when I tidied up the lounge. Mr Dunnit and I had been shopping on Sunday (Tesco). To ensure that this romantic, together time isn't too long, Mr Dunnit bought himself a newspaper - he can retire from 'together time' behind a paper without hesitation - his argument will be of course, that he wasn't even aware of anything called 'together time' and that he wasn't avoiding anything, because he didn't know there was anything going on. And I rest my case. A man (this man), cannot seize an opportunity like a woman can - any time we are alone together is precious, huh? So its together time then, which surely is bordering on romance! Now this is not a complaint about him, you can't have him, he's not about to be sacked, no siree. I just thought you'd like to hear about my romantic Sunday. Anyhoo, for reasons of lack of choice and nothing political or vaguely analytical he bought The Independent.And the front page was the kickstart I'd been looking for over the weekend. That's the criteria see, of the challenge over at The Creative Type. You must all be sick to death of blogs with snow pictures on them, but I am duty bound to record this weather; I can't remember the last time we had this much snow in central southern England. And I'm old.
Oh and just to reinforce the image you have of me - Lady Nurse commented yesterday from the photo that I might have been about to clean my scissors - you can see a sachet of extremely good sticky stuff removing thingy. Don't panic everyone...that's been knocking about my desk for so long now I don't even notice it. When I did need to clean my scissors over the holiday, I used the bottle of stuff I keep under the kitchen sink. Slovenly? I prefer ironic!