No, I haven't been drinking cider all this time (if only!)...I have, however, succumbed to the two-year itch. I am so used to moving every couple of years that I get an urge to do a spot of life laundry, which this year has manifested itself in revamping the kids' rooms, having a good old chuck out,  and getting lots of old furniture and picture frames out of the garage and painting them white (which took a whole day, and doesn't bear close inspection - shabby chic for the myopic, if you will). I subsequently realised that I used the wrong sort of paint, so it may well all flake off again - don't think Kirsty Alsopp will be out of a job any time soon!
I did have vague plans about doing a bit of manuscript editing in the evenings, but I think I was being optimistic. I seem to still be washing up/ironing at ten o'clock at night, at which point I just think 'sack it' and slump on the sofa with a chocolate milkshake. In fact, yesterday I didn't even get as far as doing the washing up, and it was all waiting for me at breakfast time today. I made the kids use paper plates when they invited a friend over for lunch. Environmentally unsound, I know, but not quite as bad as driving out for a Happy Meal, which was my plan B.
Right now I have just finished the ironing and the paper plates are in the bin and the kids have gone over to their little friend G's house (except for Son, who is upstairs pretending to sort his room out, but actually making Lego spaceships). Yes, there is still the hoovering, and putting away the random mess in the other room, but maybe I'll have a cup of tea in front of Kirsty & Phil first. Oooh, living the dream!