Transcendental, my arse

Hubby is in bed with Jocasta and Sophie Ellis-Bextor (Troilism! At his age!...not sure if that's how you spell troilism? need to figure out how to get spoll chiker on this blig...)
Anyway, that his little menage a trois with the new gadget and the old pop star is a good thing, as it freed me up to type up the opening scenes to chapter eleven. I didn't quite finish it as I got side tracked into ordering colouring books for the kids on Amazon, but I was working on a Saturday night, which I don't think I've done for about fifteen years. And I do wonder why I'm doing this. I mean, how likely is it that this book will ever make it to publication? Realistically, not very. However, I guess the alternative is playing Farmville online and getting my nails done in the quiet hours before the kids finish school and Hubby gets home from work ...and that alone is enough to propel me to keep writing.
Apart from late-night typing session, today has been very quiet, mainly because I'm the only person naggy enough to make anything happen on weekends, and this morning I wasn't feeling very well (strange buzzy noises in ears and general lethargy - at least, I think that's the medical term for it). So the Twins did a bit of colouring and Son made a start on his space explorer book, and this afternoon we watched Dr Who and Total Wipeout Celebrity Special (which is kind of like a 21st Century version of It's a Knockout - just need an updated version of Jim'll fix it to make it feel as if my kids are reliving my own childhood. But who would the modern-day equivalent of Jimmy Saville be? Hmmm....Ant n' Dec'll fix it, perhaps?).
Tomorrow I'm taking Hubby to the House of Pain, as it's known, and I'm hoping that he'll leave Jocasta and Sophie at home. We're going to have a massage at the Japanese place, and a very nice friend has bravely offered to have our kids for a couple of hours. I'm hoping it will de-stress him, as he's been getting a little bit 'Mars Attacks' recently. I slipped the idea of transcendental meditation into the conversation today, hoping he might say "Ooh, that sounds like a jolly good idea!" but instead he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Transcendental, my arse." He has been regaining his rufty-tufty-ness since realising that he will soon be back in the 'real' army (as opposed to the distinctly surreal army that is BGN).
Well, anyway, now it's late and Jocasta and Sophie have both gone to sleep and so shall I x