Next I shall clean out Tiger's room!

So, in the last 24 hours, I have achieved more than Hercules.

I know, when I list my labours (oh reading joy!), these triumphs will seem not quite so dramatic as they would from a Roman half-god. But take my word for it, they are quite dramatic for a Buckinghamshire resident who is sometimes half-dead.

They include:

Acquiring pink recycling sacks. (Ha! They are available only from the central library, so imagine that gruelling journey! Then facing down the Nemean lion who guards the box where they're kept!)

Making an appointment with the dentist. (The shameful moment I put off last year, then went to Hong Kong to avoid. Being poked in the face by a surgical instrument is far worse than being stabbed by beaks of Stymphalian birds.)

Visiting the bank to withdraw enough cash to pay the stables for Squirrel's adventure week. The stables do not take cards, only cheques, but I cannot find the cheque book although I have looked for it. (I think taking the bull by the horns is appropriate, no? Now is the point to be agog at my determination in the face of adversity.)

Leaving a message for the gardener. The one who is not really a gardener but a man with a chainsaw. (I am not sure which labour this is, but he cannot come round because I have not yet dismantled the piano we keep in the back yard. Maybe I will keep this as a labour for later.)

Locating the new National Trust tickets and putting them in my purse! Yes! This is just like Hippolyte's girdle! (I can now look forward to only a small amount of trouble in trying to gain entry to National Trust properties, as opposed to a large amount of trouble and 25 minutes arguing with the membership desk while secretly wishing to go berserk in the tea shop with a garden fork.)

I think you may conclude these are no small achievements for one day, excepting the piano, which is work in progress, and Hercules may feel a tiny bit outshone.