Tired

I'd like to apologise for not visiting anyone this week, I've been very unwell (sniff!) and not feeling very humerous or sociable. In short, I'm rather short tempered and cranky ("nothing new there", I hear someone muttering at the back).
Some of my dearest friends have expressed concern at my total lack of conversation and enthusiasm for anything other than hot tea and very soft tissues.
I'll be back!

Fine Wine

I'm not the slightest bit feminist, after all, who wants to carry the rubbish out or fix the car? I'm happy to cook (most of the time) and leave instructions for my fab friend who cleans for us.
I admit to being a petrol head and being a better driver than my husband on the road, certainly much faster, but that's about as far as equality of the sexes goes in my life.
I have no wish to wrestle the bull, chase cattle round and round the field, drive the tractor or do the sheep shearing.
But today I was sent this and I thought, yeah, let them think what they like, now we know the real score.

"Men are like fine wine.. They start out as grapes, and it's up to the women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with"