Except I tend not to poddle. Unwilling to take the tube on the two days' respite I get from it, and otherwise house-bound, I tend to do a whole load of chores (whilst simultaneously avoiding the chore that needs doing the most). For example, this weekend the little room needed clearing out. It's not a small task, but eminently achievable given an entire weekend. So far, I have put six items in a charity bag and giggled over my own genius in stand-up comedy material.
However, I have:
- Done three loads of laundry
- Done seven hours of gardening
- Made poached haddock pate (nicer than it sounds)
- Made roulades from smoked salmon
- Written lots of emails
- Finished my novel (reading someone else's novel, that is, not writing one, sadly.)
I like to think that actually, despite not yet achieving my goal for the weekend, I have at least made significant progress on some other chores that needed doing around the house, and managed to fit in a spot of relaxing too.
I'm off to New York for work in a couple of weeks, and will be gone for the best part of a fortnight. (Did you know Americans have no word for 'fortnight'? Weird. For the Americans, I will be in New York for almost two weeks.)
So, I asked TheBloke (TM) what he would do whilst I was gone. I was expecting him to say he'd finish off the decorating, or tidy the utility room, or maybe arrange for a tree surgeon to lop down the unwanted rowan tree...
No.
He's going to build a fort. "A really good one". He has forbidden me from throwing away any of the recently-accumulated cardboard boxes, or the old broken bed. There will be no girls allowed. Monty Cat will be allowed in because he is a boy.
TheBloke (TM) is thirty-five years old.
So there you go, Americans. Another definition of "fortnight" - building a fort on the nights your partner is away.
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