Divorce may be pending

Do you see what I see?

Well yes obviously I see the milk bottles. And the fact that it's a sink. Yes, it is my, our, sink.

Yes, I can see the detritus, and a certain amount of yellow-ness. No that is not me being too lazy to pop to the loo. That is the water from the potatoes I have just boiled for the mash we are about to eat. Were about to eat, then, just after I took the photo. Well, I boiled the potatoes before I took the photo and then drained them over the sink and then watched the water not disappear fast enough to take it's rubbishy over boiled bits of spud with it. And I took the photo then.

That's what I see.

That fucking horrible grille thing over the drain hold. THAT's the bain of my life. It's grounds for divorce, I swear it is. Whaddya mean I'm not married? No, but I can huff and puff, can't I.

I detest the device. And I'm always trying to sneak it away: hiding it behind the herbs pots, or behind the dozens of lotions and pills and goodness that lurk on the window sill behind the sink. But it always reappears. I even hid it in the dishwasher once.

All it does it ensure that the water flows so slowly out of the sink that everything that should be carried away isn't. I really don't see the purpose of it. The sink has a grille constructed within it that gather carrot peelings and old mushrooms in one spot so a quick finger-tip raid can clear them in one swift movement to the bin. This bloody thing just makes work: the sink is covered in crap, and is so hard to clean. So while she's out I always nip in an a) hide it, and b) clean up the filthy sink.

She's out now.
Excuse me, I have work to do.

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May I say this was an almost perfect example of boreblogging. I am inordinately proud of myself.