Bloody Sunday

My weekend has been a blur though it shouldn’t have been. And today, we emerged from our Sunday morning bed and put up a shed. Quite wonderfully N did most of the manual stuff this time, and my role mostly involved just working out how it all went as the instructions were both idiotic and misleading, and N understandably couldn’t fathom it, demonstrating - ’no I mean turned  180 degrees then tilted to this angle, so the holes line up’, - and doing the assistant jobs like holding panels in place and passing screws. It was just like being a glamorous assistant but without the glamour. I’m doing this Mistress lark wrong again aren’t I?

The new shed being up is something I wanted though as it’s a key part of Operation Sort The Storage Crisis, Reclaim The Lean To, And Thus Get My Art Desk Out From Under Things Like Bloody Chainsaws.  

Please note, ‘bloody chainsaws’ in this sense is me being British, and not some act of diabolical sadism. Thankyou ;)

.....But chainsaws don't belong on art desks.