I have spent the whole day waiting in for a delivery, unable to do anything useful in my workroom. This is because it is at the top of the back of the house, far away from the front door. Delivery men, if they can find the house with their stupid, not accurate sta-navs, usually tap vaguely at the door, in spite of two doorbells and a knocker, and run away. If I hear them, and I am working, it takes me a while to get downstairs, by which time they are long gone. so I sit and twiddle my thumbs, and play endless games of solitaire, and wait. I've done a lot of letters, made up a parcel, checked a couple of sewing books for techniques and so on. I ran out and got the papers (me? run - don't be silly - went as fast as I could), sat down with a cup of tea, and lo and behold, they'd given me yesterday's paper. Now I daren't go out again to change it - that would really be tempting fate.
What I should have been doing was cutting a pair of chamois gloves, and getting started on making them - humpf! And the DH is home tomorrow from hospital, so that's another day gone, as I will need to collect him, or rather his suitcase, while he copes with the crutches. (For new readers, he's just had a knee replacement.) Ah. well, another cup of tea, I think.