Blessed are the pure in heart. Bit of a boring hymn mind you. Only just noticed the wireless was still on. Sunday Service. Repetitive blurb. Time for a bacon sarnie methinks. Mind you I had a chippy tea last night on the way back from the Club Sporting de Lincoln RFC. Still a bit full and we are doing lunch today. Seehowitgoze. Some choral piece on now. It’s okay but not massively memorable. The wireless has been switched off and I have removed to da kitch. A dull outlook to the morning, observed from the vantage point of the butcher’s block. Dull as in no sun rather than dull as in a boring conversation. All is calm in the house of Davies.
I quite like the relaxing nature of Sunday mornings. Most mornings are thus but Sundays particularly so. Bearing in mind we are not supposed to do anything on the Sabbath, lest we rot in hell. Eternal damnation. Not fair really. Someone has to do the washing up. Can’t just let it stack up in the sink just because it is a Sunday. In our house we got around that problem by installing a dishwasher, something I can heartily recommend. In fact I’d prioritise a dishwasher ahead of a cement mixer even. You can always hire a cement mixer if you ever need one. Tbh if we are ever in that sitch, which we have been on occasion, I usually pay a builder to come and do the work in which case he brings his own mixer. Obvs really innit.
Blessed are the cement mixers, for they shall never be set in their ways. Blessed are the dishwashers, for they are always in hot water. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.