The Rough With The Smooth

I sat here yesterday, watching my washing go round and round in the washing machine, wondering why it was making such a loud clanking noise, and spotted my penknife, gasping for breath at the edge of the water. Not a problem, really, as I recovered it, and the little torch on it still works. (And for anyone who's thinking, 'Crikey, I'd like to be able to sit and watch my washing going round for half an hour', please bear in mind that I was sitting there because I wasn't physically capable of getting up!)
Last week I wondered where my watch was, and found it in my trouser pocket as I pulled it from the tumble dryer. It was only when Mr O pointed out that to get to the tumble dryer it must first have been through a wash cycle, I took a closer look, only to find it had been ten to three for the past two hours. I have sadly laid it to rest.
Also yesterday, I came in from the cold to make myself a cup of coffee, and moved my arm at the wrong time and knocked the whole jar of coffee onto the floor, smashing the jar and sending coffee granules everywhere. I made sure Tessa stayed in her bed while I swept up every shard of glass, and every last granule. I hate it when something gets broken, don't you? It always seems such a shock.
But, on the bright side... I am reading a book called 'Deutsch Direkt'. It's a German language course book for adults and it has been my close companion for at least fifteen years (I noticed my maiden name is written inside the front cover). I reached for the next book, called 'Ganz Spontan' and read that it is in fact the third book in the series, and what I should be reading next is 'Deutsch Express'. I began to search for a copy on the internet, and have considered trying to find it in the library. I mentioned it to Missis on Monday, and she said, "Oh, I've got that." I am astonished. She gave it to me yesterday, and three tapes to go with it. It looks really good, and I can't wait to start working through it.
I am often the willing victim of an act of generosity such as this, and give my heartfelt thanks to the Lord for the way he provides things, sometimes, before I've even realised I want them. A friend in Switzerland, and a reader of my blog (hello Trudi) has said she will post me a macrame book she's had for forty years. How wonderful. Then I might be able to replace the broken light pull in the bathroom, with something chunky (preferably with a great big wooden knob on the end!)
And also, do you remember me saying Fi at Marmalade Rose sent me the website of Norfolk Textiles, who sell oilskin table cloths (amongst other things)? I perused the website and found the perfect thing. It is just a beige checked table cloth, but it's oilskin (with a smaller check than the fabric tablecloth I already have). It came about three days after I'd placed the order and it's absolutely perfect. You cannot believe the thrill of being able to wipe a table and have the cloth in perfect, pristine condition every time. I love it, and want to say a big thankyou to Fi as I've searched everywhere for something like this.
I am trying to get as much housework done as possible, so I don't have to do any for the next two days while I've got all the stables to do. I can't believe I used to work full-time, go to the stables, muck out, ride, go home, cook dinner and fall into bed every single day. And most of my friends are still doing it. I don't know how I had the strength.
I would like to remind you of how joyous it is to be able to see my horses out of my kitchen window, but it's so foggy today, I can't see past the garden table. And it is my full intention to wash the (large) stable windows, but I can't do it when it's -4, can I?
I also fully intend, one day, to do a 'wordless Wednesday' but as my verbosity currently knows no bounds, I can't see it happening just yet. My youngest son tried to remind me that 'a picture paints a thousand words', but I am still at the word stage. When does 'writer's block' come? After six months? A year? I'd better get some nice photographs sorted and ready, then, hadn't I? You never know when they might come in handy.