One fabulous day, the perfect kind of holiday day, where I get to chat with my friend N while our children play happily. We went swimming, we ate and we went to the library. Low cost, high pleasure.
My efforts to streamline our swimming pool visit had dismal results. I separated my keys so that there weren't so many in the open lockers at the pool. But, one house key and one car key are not sufficient if I go crazy on the security on our 21 year old, multi-dinged and filthy station wagon and put the clublock on. FH came over and unlocked it, not even trusting me to borrow his key. Nice work on the small town front that he was so close.
Next stop, the library. As seems to be a routine bordering on ritual, this school holidays I realised that a generous but compulsory donation to our local library was going to be necessary if I wanted any more books out. I'd not found three books for months in the midden, so decided to bite the bullet and pay for the books, a most generous sum. Only my streamlining of only taking my eftpos card to the swimming pool meant I left my eftpos card in the swimming bag at home. No generous gift and no library books.
But wait, there's more! By the time I got home, I decided to delegate the cooking of dinner so I could operate a full scale archaeological dig in my bedroom. One corner of my bedroom actually.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Procrastinators and Friends, I saved myself the princely sum of $28 in that dig. One down, two to go. Perhaps tomorrow I shall deal with another corner of the bedroom. The third book is Brighid's, but I'm not yet brave enough for her room. It is clear that she is my daughter when you look at the state of her boudoir.