Can you keep those pencils from Ikea?

The first thing I saw this morning was my husband bursting into the bedroom naked after his shower, exclaiming, "Good morning buxom female citizen! I am Amazing Man!". I knew right then, it was going to be one of those days.

It may have been ever so slightly manipulative of me, but I decided to cash in on the husbandly good mood by suggesting a trip to Ikea. Woo and yay, he went for it! I got a couple of picture frames for photographing my work in and some AA batteries for my camera. Don't ever let it be said that I'm a pedestrian shopper. Not I. While I was there I also pilfered one of those paper tape measures for measuring the frames and one of the little pencils. Both are now folded up neatly and stashed in the inside cover of my Fiona T notebook. I'm not sure if you're allowed to do this, so I apologise right here and now if I've committed a faux pas/crime type thing. On the other hand I did feel gleefully naughty doing it. I'm a bad person.

We almost came home, but remembered we needed to go and buy new razor blades. Hub has a beard like Desperate Dan and requires the strongest razors known to mankind. These can be purchased on the market at discount prices (which encouraged a whole load of "Market? No, Meerkat!" carry on from aforesaid giddy spouse), so off we went.

The razor stall also sells books, though I don't see a logical connection. I got one on Victorian murders that looks rather intriguing. I'll pass on any good tips after I read it.

Now we're back home and surveying the crazy jumble-sale-tip state of the house. Together we are trying to inspire and motivate each other to do some tidying up, which we may well get round to eventually. We're finding our progress impeded by earl grey and this here massive bag of Riesen toffees that fell into our basket in one of the shops. I do so want the living room to look lovely and clean, really, I honestly genuinely do. It's just such a chore. Gah.