I took a load of snaps of Longwood House, the place Napoleon lived when he was exiled here, but I am not really in the mood to chat about a dead bloke and his taste in interior décor. I have failed to upload photo's of anything else recently so I thought we might take a little walk around Napoleon's garden and have a natter.
WARNING: Moaning and whingey post approaching...
I am finding things a bit tricky at the moment. J's broken elbow is a pain in the, well, elbow. Metaphorically and literally. He was given some stronger pain killers today but still is pretty much confined to sitting very still.
It is not just that I have to do all the things he would normally do, as well as the things that I would normally do, but I have to do extra things too - he can't butter his toast or cut up his food, and he is very sore and wary of being bounced by a Small.
The Smalls are also testing the boundaries, with me and with each other. They seem to be fighting constantly.
And all around, entropy is creeping up on me. The piles are growing, the mess is multiplying and the grime is gathering.
Reading books are unread, homework is last minute and packed lunches are unimaginative.
I have no idea how single Mums cope, let alone working single Mums. Running a household and bringing up a family is most definitely a job for two.
I did draw the line today though - broken arm, or no broken arm, removing the dead bird from the shed was still his job.
Lovely people keep saying to me: Let me know if I can do anything...
But sadly none of them is a willing and eager house-elf, which is of course, what I really want.
ALL CLEAR: Moaning over.
It is a very strange garden - lots of formal, single species planting gone slightly wild.
But in need of a bit of TLC.
I know the feeling.