June has been a very busy month, so blogging hasn’t really been a luxury I’ve been able to indulge in.

The builders have buggered off – leaving me with the DIY job from hell: a whole house that needs painting, floors to lay, furniture to build, mirrors to fit and a garden that is in desperate need of the sort of attention that only shears and a strimmer can provide.

And Darling Wifey has been promoted by the exam board, so now has a team of examiners of her own to bully (and check up on – hence the sack-loads of marked scripts to verify arriving every other day.) Our refuge – the former playroom which was converted, last summer, into an oasis of grown-up calm and tranquility complete with candles, stones and calming music – is now an office with two enormous tables heaving under the weight of exam scripts.

But worst of all, I have discovered that I am, officially, middle-aged. I am getting Advanced Driving lessons in order to improve fuel economy; I am more productive between the hours of 6 and 11am than pm; hell, I like 6am!

How can I rebel? I have plenty rebel against, but I don’t know how any more!