Saturday morning sleepathon

Daisy Turnip writes.....

Saturday morning is a morning of sleep. Unless we're going somewhere, or having friends to stay (we live miles from our friends and family so our house becomes a bit like a weekend B&B for said people) Saturday morning is a catch up on your zzzzzzzzzzzz's session. And I'm very good at my zzzzzzzzzz's. In fact, if there was an olympic medal for sleeping abilities, I'd win it hands down - every year! It truly is a perfected art of mine.

Anyway, I was looking forward to my Saturday sleep in. Ideally, I would have got up at 10am and having gone to bed at 10pm last night, this would have completed my regular 12 hour Friday night / Saturday morning sleepathon! Unfortunately for me, someone in our village decided that they'd already had enough sleep and by 7am was merrily working away with some power tool! God, some people are sick - fancy being up and about, working away at that time on a Saturday morning - have they no shame!!

The noise woke up Hubby first, he started chuntering away and then got up and closed the bedroom window (regardless of the weather and sub zero chill factor, hubby HAS to sleep with the window open. He therefore shouldn't complain about the depth and million rating tog factor of the duvet I had to buy in order to keep me warm). Hubby, being mr early bird, got up and cheerfully went downstairs. And being so good at my art, I fell straight back to sleep. Mmmmm, heaven - Saturday morning sleep in!

8.45am and someone is banging at our front door! WHAT!!!! Then is went again, bang bang bang. We have a big 'whackoff', heavy, big, massive, big, heavy door knocker! Ok, possible slight exaggeration there. But when it knocks, it's seems incredibly - especially when you're in bed and trying to sleep - loud! I foolishly thought, 'well Hubby is up, he'll get it' - in fact it was hubby banging the door! He then opens the letter box and starts calling me. The dog thinks this is all great fun - 'Dad's got a new game for us the play kind of thing!! I stagger down the stairs and let him in. He's standing there cheerily grinning away and tells me he thought he'd got his keys in his pocket - but he hadn't!

Hubby has now gone on the 'chick run' - he's a volunteer and once every couple of months, has to pick up a few old dears from their nursing home and take them to the local supermarket. He says it gives him 'quality reading time' - he gets to sit in the car reading his beloved newspaper, while they shop. He then drops them back home an hour or so later. He initially got kind of conned in to this role (a request to do it once only, to cover for someone who was away), but now actually enjoys it - i reckon, once he's done it, it gives him that 'i've been a good person feeling' - a bit like when you've taken 6 months worth of bottles (and yes, we have a few!!!), tins, cardboard, plastic etc to the council recycling centre!

Anyway, I've given up on my sleepathon today. I got up and did some heavenly chores instead!