Conflict.

A war zone stretches in front of me. Burning rubble, scattered debris, and a sense of horror that can only be experienced at first hand.

I begin by trying to reach the sanctuary of the sofa, but am thwarted by the mountain of dismembered crisp bags and sweet wrappers.

Beaten back to the kitchen, I manage to put rearrange the washing up, so it appears that far fewer plates and knives are lying wounded requiring medevac.

Biscuit boxes, cereal packs, and a mountain of unanswered correspondence (and more importantly, unattended bills) festoon my sideboards, providing cover for the coffee spills and crumbs.

I decide it's a safer bet to dig in, and wait until it's all over.

I grab the laptop, and trip over the discarded pile of clothing and towels outside the bathroom, steady myself, and head back to the kitchen.

Where to start?

Paperwork..... I am gradually shredding it all. I have devised a system. It's quite simple really. First pass, flick through the box of papers, separating keepers from shredders. Second pass, through the pile of keepers...... Do I really need it?? More shredders. Third pass, close your eyes and shred the keepers pile AND the shredding pile, denying all knowledge.... I never had to sign for any of it, therefore I never saw it... Did someone say Enron?

Washing up.... Put away the stuff that was washed up a few days ago, and is now dry. Everything else needs to soak!! Bowl of water, leave for three days, or until you need something in the bowl.

Find something else to do.... Hence the laptop and the blog!!

Makes a change from "wind in the willows" eh Toad?

Chores.

On the seventh day, God rested. I didn't, and Dawn certainly didn't.

In preparation for the arrival of my cousin, Sophia, this week, Dawn saw fit to completely tidy my house. I kept out of the way, and was allowed no distraction from my never ending stack of paperwork.

Like a tasmanian whirling devlishly dervish, armed with vacuum cleaner and all manner of things, for which I do not know the names, she swept, vacced, tidied, and generally spun round with aplomb.

I played house music, and danced round the bedroom, whilst scanning various documents. As per usual, I have done everything I needed to do, and absolutely no more. Dawn's efforts are infinitely more visible, complete, and appreciated.

To celebrate the industrious outburst, I paid the only way I know how, by creating a plate of creamed mushrooms on toast. Laced with black pepper, and cooked to perfection, an excellent repast.

I constantly marvel at Dawn's selfless, giving nature. As we say in Yorkshire: "She's a grand lass!". I certainly don't know what I would do without her!!