Mr Smith and I spent the weekend at the seaside. Mr Smith read his book, watched some telly and looked miserable. I, on the other hand, went to the pub and saw a few mates, tacked a whole patchwork quilt, watched an excellent film, Vicky Christina Barcelona, walked the dog, ate something weird for dinner, gathered branches for my Christmas swags and the next morning went for a very rain swept walk along the beach before breakfast at the greasy spade. We went house hunting - useless without a proper appointment as you can't see anything much from the road, in the rain, and you can't barge in when they're having their Sunday lunch with "We were just passing so thought we'd give your place the once over." Mr Smith didn't see why not!
And now to make a Christmas swag. I'm off to the dentist again this morning so I'll get Mr Smith to make a start - perhaps not. My friends should be good at this - coven meeting with bits of wire and boughs of holly falalalalalalalalala.
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