On Tuesday afternoons I work in the St Michael’s Hospice charity shop. I started volunteering there after I lost my job and needed things to do to help pull me out of the pit. It’s normally a fun thing to do, we usually split the shift between us, one working upstairs steaming the clothes and putting them out, the other manning the counter, then we swap halfway.
Today for some reason I got to be on the counter all afternoon and as the hours went by and my reading of Adrian Mole: The Wilderness Years was continually interrupted by pesky customers, I felt a great yearning to be at home, swaddled in a blanket on the sofa, writing the wee blog and then perhaps wielding the crochet hook. So when 4.30 came I headed off at a great rate of knots and I am cuddled up with a cup of tea and a Hob Nob.
Maybe I am feeling a little deflated because the long weekend is over – it seemed to pass so quickly. We did get quite a lot done though – the attic room tidied into a proper study space and the garden got a seeing too as well. Feeling particularly pleased with finding that what we thought was a dead Ceanothus shrub by the front door has survived the snow and has new tiny, shiny leaves at its base.
My parents-in-law arrive on Friday for a weeks stay so that should be interesting – hope they like our little town. Neither of them are royalists so we won’t be forced into watching wedding stuff – thank heavens. Something to celebrate though will be Mr T’s birthday and Beltane on Saturday and it’s another long weekend!