The trackball on my Blackberry has stuck, so anything I type will have to stay that way. There will be no scrolling back to fix anything! It's like life, y'know! I can scroll forward, but not back. I will dismantle the whole trackball thing and try to fix it, so if you never hear from me again you know why.
I have a new award! Green Girl In Wisconsin has given it to me for being marvellous, and I am so proud! I will pass it on and do links when I am back at the desktop, but in the meantime check out Green Girl and my fellow Awardees, they are all good. *Bows, Bows...*
Yesterday, it rained. And it rained. It may be too early to tell, but today looks like rain. Some pelicans are sitting huddled at the end of a jetty across the bay, and that is never a good sign.
However, the boys are having a blast, changing their clothes frequently and leaving them in wet heaps everywhere. When I say "Hey you! Did you know that your clothes are in a wet heap here?" they say, "*GASP!* WHO put those there! I hung mine up!"
I am not concerned at all. I figure the best way to learn to hang your clothes up is to discover you have none left.
Actually, there are spare clothes for the boys, but I have cunningly hidden them. For emergencies.
Why do children wake so early when they are on holiday? Why must they be in such a noisy good mood? Why can't they go and sulk, quietly, somewhere, and not speak to one another? Why the whooping at five-thirty?
I ought to go put a damper on everyone's spirits. Or maybe cook a massive breakfast? Full mouths being too busy to whoop?
I have a new award! Green Girl In Wisconsin has given it to me for being marvellous, and I am so proud! I will pass it on and do links when I am back at the desktop, but in the meantime check out Green Girl and my fellow Awardees, they are all good. *Bows, Bows...*
Yesterday, it rained. And it rained. It may be too early to tell, but today looks like rain. Some pelicans are sitting huddled at the end of a jetty across the bay, and that is never a good sign.
However, the boys are having a blast, changing their clothes frequently and leaving them in wet heaps everywhere. When I say "Hey you! Did you know that your clothes are in a wet heap here?" they say, "*GASP!* WHO put those there! I hung mine up!"
I am not concerned at all. I figure the best way to learn to hang your clothes up is to discover you have none left.
Actually, there are spare clothes for the boys, but I have cunningly hidden them. For emergencies.
Why do children wake so early when they are on holiday? Why must they be in such a noisy good mood? Why can't they go and sulk, quietly, somewhere, and not speak to one another? Why the whooping at five-thirty?
I ought to go put a damper on everyone's spirits. Or maybe cook a massive breakfast? Full mouths being too busy to whoop?
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