It's raining. And with the darkened mornings and it being the weekend we've had a slow start to the day. I have a mountain of laundry that would make even Ranulph Fiennes think twice. There's a sleeping teenager upstairs to be negotiated, gently does it. But first coffee, toast and marmalade, candles and the book that's tantalisingly close to being finished. Perhaps if I stay really, really quiet no-one will notice me...
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