"Darling can you please water my hanging baskets or they will perish."

It has been two weeks since Mr Woog up and left me for a trip abroad.  I was beginning to wonder whether in fact he had actually just moved there permanently when I got a text from him,  reminding me to water his hanging baskets.

Hanging baskets are those planty things that Grandmas have. Oh and my husband. And as it turns out they are inclined to perish if left unattended.

Perish is such a dramatic word. I prefer DIE.

So today I will be hunting down a botanical forensic scientist to identify the body and see if we cannot do something about replacing it. Mr Woog was VERY fond of his hanging baskets. He would fuss over them like a newborn.
Anyway, in other news I am now writing over at KidSpot until they realise how dreadful I really am,  so come visit me there while I still have the gig*. Click here to see why I would be a total crap celebrity.
*gig is fancy for freelance* job
*freelance is a word I prefer to use as when I am fired I can say “I was freelancing and the contract expired…”