Overhung

As you with keen eyes may have suspected, I was a little merry last night - perhaps a quarter cut - so I'm feeling slightly fragile this morning. However the sun is actually shining today so Ours and I are also filled with the joys of spring. This will stay with us until we leave the flat and are hit by frigid winds fresh from Dublin’s coastline. (That’s one reason why Ireland is so famous for its pubs)

Ours is a great cook, made even more fabulous by the fact that I struggle to boil water most days. Case in point - when I went to bed at three a.m. he was preparing dough for our breakfast in advance. You know, cos we didn't have any bread. Fellow mageirocophobics will most likely share my astonishment and perhaps accuse me of slave labour, but the man was in his element. Honest.

I was so touched by his preparations last night that I promised I'd pop out to Spar for some eggs this morning. But here I am blogging instead. Bad girlfriend.