One of Those Still Summer Sundays...

... Like the halcyon days of childhood.
(Except there won't be 'Sing Something Simple' on the radio this evening).

Himself is taking apart a big wooden pallet.
With rusty nails :-(
(It contains them, they're not what he's actually using to take it apart. He has mentioned being in need of a crowbar, but I suspect that if Santa researches buying one, the need will certainly have passed).

I am wearing (in case anyone wondered) a rather smart (if crumpled, because it does) linen bubble dress of a kind of sea trout pink. (It's not part of my colour palette in all honesty, however it was a bargain... What can you do Gladys?)
Why am I so smart?
Because we visited the Elderly relative.
He was sporting a pair of trousers with holes in both knees ('it's all the rage now, I'm just really with it') and a smattering of selections of gravy (from various historical dinners).
Having wrested (or, indeed 'wrestled'!) them from his person, and persuaded him into one of the more clean smart outfits from his wardrobe... We left him looking groomed (if slightly less comfortable).

Returning home (and changing into my own 'comfy', it seemed only fair to take a long hard look at my own outfits of choice when I'm not expecting to see anyone.

Pot. Kettle. Black :-(

So today I'm smart :-) 

And should any close relatives be reading this, you have my permission (in the distant future) to incinerate anything in my wardrobe of dubious style (and cleanliness!).