Yesterday at my sister's I did get too sit down with a cup of coffee, which was fab. However, someone also suggested a picnic, so we walked for miles, through nettles: me, my big sis and seven kids (yes, we are a fertile family), trying in vain to avoid being leapt upon by posh people's out-of-control Labradors with alcoholic names ('Pimms, come back here now! Pimms! PIMMS!! Oh, she is a naughty girl, you know'). When at last we reached the picnic site it started to rain. After our hastily-scoffed cheese sandwiches we traipsed all the way back, but this time with one exciting difference: Twin 2's wellies had given her blisters, so I had to carry her all the way. Oh the joys of summer hols in Devon....
Right, I'm back again had to break off there for a moment so that Twin 2 could tell me about her bad dream (something about poo and snow?) and Son could borrow my mobile phone to tell Hubby about an exciting development in Star Trek.
The sleepover was fabulous, of course. Nobody got any sleep whatsoever, and as a result were very underwhelmed when we took them to Dartmoor Zoo today and saw tigers feeding, falcons flying and racoons doing racoony things (the spellcheck says that's not how you spell racoon, and it's American, so it should know. However, I don't).
Twin 2 is calling me because there are apparently more details of the snow/poo dream that I have to hear in order for her to be able to get back to sleep, so I should go.
Bye x
ps - still no news from agents (is this a good thing?), boo.
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