In My Case It's Duvet Covers

What is the worst household chore if you live alone?

For me it's changing the duvet cover. 

When I was newly married (in 1970) we started married life with the new-fangled idea imported from The Continent - the duvet. 

My wife was brought up in a mansion. Well a very large house in several acres of garden on the very top of a small hill visible from miles around. It was, like many such houses, Baltic everywhere except in the kitchen and living room. The dining and drawing room fires might be lit in the evening in the winter and when visitors were being entertained.  So she had been brought up with duvets.

Eiderdowns (as we called them - the best ones were originally made from the down of eider ducks because it was the warmest) were commonplace on top of one's blankets in winter for those who didn't aspire to duvets.

The duvet was basically a much improved version of the eiderdown and used on top of a single sheet or, indeed, without a sheet but in its own cover.

Since May 1970 I have never slept (in my own house) under anything other than a duvet.

I love them. HOWEVER, once every week, I always used to hate them at the same time. Because that was how often we used to change our duvet cover.  

To be fair if there were two people doing the job it wasn't too bad but on one's own it was a nightmare. 

Over the years, however, I have perfected the art by using pegs on the corners and it's less of a chore. However it is still one of my least favourite household tasks.

Your least favourite household chore is....?

Oh Dear

I think that I'm depressed. 

Not in the true meaning of clinical depression but just generally peed off with life, the universe and everything (thank you, Douglas Adams). 

With apologies to any supporters of Donald Trump who might stumble across this blog, I think that he is one of the main causes. 

I've managed into my ninth decade and am very grateful for the fact that I still have (to some degree or another) all my faculties. That despite, at the age of 15, having a disease that people still die of today. The remedy was to remove a lobe of a lung and, to this day, I'm grateful for the hospital team involved in what, 64 years ago, was quite major surgery. It was after that that I had a very brief bout of post-operative clinical depression. I used to go walking for hours and hours on end alone with my thoughts. It was very short-lived. That was 64 years ago and I've never had a hint since. I count myself exceptionally fortunate. 

The other thing is that I never was an ideas person. However, I'm very good at executing practical ideas provided they are within my capabilities.

I'm very grateful for the readers of the blog who have asked if I'm okay. Thank you. I apologise (again) for the fact that I've been neglecting my blogging duties.

Have any of my other readers who may be, shall we say, not as young as they once were, found that life takes a bit longer in just about every way?

Short of something really drastic happening there will be another post this coming weekend.