The stitchery isn't finished.
Packing not even planned.
Housework needs a lot of doing to get the house in a fit state for the latest batch of Irish Outlaws. The Godfather nephew has taunted me with promise of a pressie that will drive MWNN mad, but he won't tell me what it is. I know its music (I'm far too impatient for my own, or my blood pressure's good)
Oh, and Peppered Moth by Margaret Drabble disappointed in the end - just . . something was lacking, the themes weren't tied together tightly enough and none were resolved or explained sufficiently at the end. Cross that one off the recommendations list. One thing about it that did fascinate; she used a series of lines that were obviously quotes from a religious source. It was only when I reached the final one all shall be well that I recognised Julian of Norwich. Wonder how many other readers even noticed?