Hate and love...
The husband and I didn't make Swing Club on Wednesday night. This is down to the fact that after six hours of pressure washing the patio, I was barely able to walk in a straight line, let alone be able to deal with a Shortie George or a Tacky Annie. In case you're new to me, it's a dance club I go to, and Shortie George and Tacky Annie are a couple of dance moves, rather than a pair of unsavoury characters you might meet in a bus shelter on a Friday night in Preston. So now that's cleared up, I was disappointed in myself and my legs for letting the side down. Instead of tripping (up) the light fantastic, I headed off to bed at 8.00 and slept for what felt like days. This always triggers the most stupid question from the husband. 'Did you sleep well?' Well, my love, I have no idea as I was asleep at the time. I don't normally respond with such a flippant retort out loud as the husband can be sensitive at times, and I hate the sight of that trembling