wet sundays.

I am, quite simply, too bloody knackered. Let's hope son no. 2 grows up quickly so I can get a decent night's sleep. Time was I would have spent sunday mooching around, especially when it was a sopping wet one like today. There is a pleasure in stomping around the countryside on a wet day, but this is one of those where you need to be curled up in a chair with a decent book or three and a ready supply of wine. Crumpets may also possibly be involved somewhere along the line, as well as the smell of a roast dinner.
Nowadays, I can hardly move for the competing demands for my attention from various others - and indeed, just on cue, Sean has just woken up. Also, I have to make dinner for a guest who I drunkenly invited over after my mum's 60th birthday bash, and of which I had entirely forgotten until Nurel reminded me this morning. I miss those lazy, lounging days.