Bootcamp update #5

Mr Jones and I have no need for trainers or squash rackets or peppy aerobics instructors this weekend. We have reinvented ourselves and have become dab hands at patio laying. I can still "feel the burn" in my back and I've been sat down for three hours so it must be doing the job. (I can almost hear the osteopath rubbing his hands together).

The weather being typically British hasn't put us off, a bit of drizzle doesn't hurt and apparently freezing your a** off helps to burn more calories. One patio down and a path and another patio to go. I am currently wondering how I shall manage tomorrow - given that my arms are no longer functioning and I'm having to type this with my tongue.

The cats will be no help - they've been languishing on the sofa all day eating easter eggs and sipping gin. Oh well Mr Jones has promised me a BBQ on the new patio tomorrow evening as an incentive to keep shoveling the cement. It will of course be a thoroughly English affair involving brollies, large amounts of parafin, a few charred sausages and a lot of flame fanning and swearing - until we give up and shove everything under the grill. Would you like to come - My potato salad is to die for?