Sunday Blues

Back in London.
How can my house smell of damp yet be so stuffy at the same time?
Anyway. I like to congratulate myself each time I get home from a weekend away because I switch off all the water / heating / electrical goods (well, obviously not the fridge and the freezer. imagine, that'd be a fun thing to come back to...) and I think, well, this weekend our house has mostly been inactive so hasn't been contributing to Global Warming, and I quietly award the house and its inhabitants a special invisible but green badge. However, now we're back its a bloody pain because we don't have any hot water and the kids stink from rolling around in a garden all day possibly dipping in and out of the occasional fox poo / squirrel poo / pigeon poo. But the half hour we have to wait to fill up the water tank with hot water means I get to have the joyous task of unpacking all the clothes, sorting out the dirty ones, thinking about the next load for the washing machine. Y'know. All that kind of crazy stuff. Meanwhile Husband plays cards with Mol (its really good for her brain) and Liz watches 64-zoo-lane and laughs out loud when the Hyena laughs out loud even if she doesn't know why its laughing. Bear of little brains. But maybe quite sweet.
I have in the 44minutes of returning to london already achieved monumental things: cut down some bamboo, stuck it into the tomato plants given to me by my dad (who taught me how to de-hair-the-plants-armpits - highly technical gardening terminology but I may not take it to my Garden Centre interview on Tuesday... "So, tell me the best way to get the hair out of your plants' armpits? Or do you just apply the seceteurs (?sp) to your bush?"; repotted a dying basil plant; put slug-resistent copper selotape around the basil plant and also my nearly-dead-sunflower. Well its actually Mol's sunflower. But its mine now that she can't be arsed to look after it. (And so you see Molly, if you can't even look after a sunflower, why should we buy you a rabbit?)
Think the hot water may be hot now.
Oops. Here comes Husband... "what you doing?"