This week feels as if it had 17 days in it, but it's finally Friday, and the weekend beckons. I'm sure Einstein would have had some theory that explains why working weeks feel so long and weekends so short, but I probably wouldn't understand it anyway.

Speaking of understanding, today we have yet another example of something I just don't comprehend. Agnes has found a nice, reliable and hard-working lady who comes once a month to clean our house. That, I understand. The strange part for me is that we have to clean the house so it isn't too dirty before the lady we pay to clean it arrives. Go figure.

But by this afternoon the house will be sparkly clean, this evening we can go dancing, and I will be able to embark tomorrow with full energy on the centerpiece of my weekend: renting a front-end loader to move the accumulated dirty wash downstairs to the laundry room and turn it into clean wash. Next time, I'm going to read the fine print in the marriage contract more closely...

Enjoy your weekend. I'll try to post something a little more thought-provoking tomorrow.

Bilbo