Hello! And heartened by the comments about my blog being a necessity for getting through the day, here we are again. (Unlucky those who made a convincing argument for the "do something else" option).
Huw did his usual "if I have to be up, then everyone must be up (and ideally making me cups of tea)" thing at six a.m and the day went down hill from then really.
Our play group is full of muppets. We had a "sports day" theme, thanks to someone bringing in their Olympics kit, and started with egg and spoon races. We then had to move on to just spoon races as egg and spoon turned out to be too difficult - and even then, no-one actually won.
Another day, another trip on the bus - this time a five mile journey taking a fantastic 54 minutes, via the arse-end of Llanyre and every other village where no-one has ever got on a bus before. Luckily we had comedy-driver and he kept the old folks tittering with his shouting at people who had parked in bad places which prevented his bus getting by and meant that he had to speed off at 16 mph to make up time.
I always used to think that parents who let their children run through flocks of pigeons and birds, especially whilst some other poor soul was feeding them, were pretty irresponsible. Today, however, I got their point. I had thirty seconds mental rest when Charlotte and her friend sprinted across the park to kick pigeons - my friend and I shouting, "look - there's another one!" trying to drag it out to at least a minute.
I'm sat here now, too scared to go out and get the washing in as I heard a rustle in the hedge earlier. In my mind it is at least a monster that wants to eat me and then hide in our cupboards to scare me again later - but in my heart I know that it is a crisp packet tucked into waist high grass. If we weren't such scutters, this kind of thing would never need to happen.