i woke up with a jerk today.
how gordon brown sneaked into my bedroom last night, i will never know.
i vaguely remember a tap on the door, but i got the plumber to fix that.
anyway, i soon got shut of him by threatening to wake doris - though she was snoring so much i doubt i could have shouted loudly enough to disturb her.
gordon grabbed his pink pyjamas and his tony blair teddy, and ran off.

i brandished my morning chipolata at him as he drove away, then got down to planning my day.
i'd got as far as deciding to wear my royal underpants (when people see me in them, they always call me 'your royal highness'), when there was a crash like a mountain of boulders falling down a slope of sheet steel - doris had tripped on her negligee and was now in a large heap at the foot of the stairs.

so - all sunday plans out of the window.
we went to hospital.
she refused all treatment and limped off to the hospital cafe instead, elbowing medical staff to one side as she caught a whiff of today's special - pork hernia with broken legs and sliced fingers.

back home at last, after a trying day, i was determined to make the most of what is left of my sunday.
then doris did some heavy breathing down the intercom from her bathroom and invited me to wash her back.

i've just finished loading the wheelbarrow with a yard brush, a bottle of car shampoo and wax, and a window scraper.

well - she asked for it ...