Fire!

My iron went up in flames tonight. That is a slight exaggeration; it was only a small flame but scary nevertheless. I thought there was a strange smell but not a burning smell. It could have been worse; I could have been electrocuted like Ken Barlow's first wife, a million years ago.

Fortunately or unfortunately depending on your point of view, most of the ironing was finished.

My mother-in-law doesn't do anything. Apart from doctor and hospital appointments, she doesn't really go out so she has nothing to do except clean. That is why her house is always spotless. I wonder if my house will be clean when I am old. I rather hope not. And, to be honest, I don't think it's very likely. I am sure I could always find something better than cleaning to do.

However there are people who like cleaning. People who have jobs and a clean house. They don't have Harvey or me though. And how does dust get inside cupboards? You open them for a minute, next thing you know you can write in the dust.

And another thing. Every day I take off my wellies and put them away; next day when I get them out, they are the wrong way round. And why do I always get a hole in my right welly? Is it because of my extra toe? And why do I have trouble with the net every night about this time?

Life is full of questions.