Perhaps most frustrating of all the words I May Not Use is the word “fart”. Apparently it’s unladylike (the word, not the action. Ummm. The word, not just the action? Oh I don’t know). So what are the alternatives?
I’ve just spent twenty minutes completing Sophie’s passport application after which I signed it with a flourish which crossed the lines and invalidated the whole thing …
My youngest child is having a shouting match with a jabberwock right behind me, which is making it a little difficult to get started tonight …
We all had a good night’s sleep last night. What’s amazing is the effect that a good sleep has on the potency of the wormhole that disguises itself as our shower …
With a quiet bit of deck, a patio heater, good company and an inquisitive robin.
My thirty-fifth year began with Josie saying “Happy birthday, James” (I’ve been James all week and am quite enjoying the novelty) and presenting me with a re-purposed Christmas card …
The shops are inexplicably full of pumpkins at the moment, so Michelle and Josie made a lantern. Novel, I know. It’s this kind of unprompted spontaneity just sparking off around me that keeps me sharp …
Scintillating Saturday spent cleaning in the morning and shopping for most of the afternoon. I should also mention that we think we’ve found a suitable replacement to the Fart …
Well, Bilbo turned eleventy-one this morning on the train (belatedly) …
Apparently …