Hitler at the gate?

Our guard has changed his hairstyle and grown a diddy moustache. I was wondering why I found his new look both familiar and disconcerting, when I suddenly realised that he has morphed into a Nepali version of Adolph Hitler. And I suppose this shouldn't worry me, as he's probably too busy opening gates and turning the generator on and and off to do anything rash, like invade Poland.

Hubby just called on Skype. Couldn't really hear him, though, because of the sound of music (I mean, the sound of the bar stereo, not the von Trapp family) and tropical birds in the background. He's obviously having a tough time of it on his adventure training exercise.

Last night I had two other children in the house, so I was in charge of three five-year-olds and two eight-year-olds. I decided that the sensible thing to do would be to finish off the open bottle of wine in the fridge and spend a little time with my good friend Mr Ebay (it's been a while, you know). Shall have to do big wardrobe clear out this week to make some space...

Today my friend M took pity on my sailing widow status and invited us round for roast lamb. Unbelievably tasty (in fact, so much tastier than anything Meena ever cooks us, that I am just about to book her on another cooking course).

Twins are now bored of Raiders of the Lost Ark DVD (Son's choice tonight), so I shall have to go upstairs and read a book about kittens or fairies instead of watching a young Harrison Ford, Boo!

Take care, x