Brrr, it's a bit parky out there. Apparently it's going to be minus ten tonight. Oooh, I know! This is roughly the same temperature as it was at Annapurna Base Camp two years ago - feels like a lifetime (sigh). The closest I get to trekking these days is slogging back up the hill after the school run, with my very heavy Tesco bags full of dog food (yes, I know, probably horse meat) and a new bikini (it just cheered me up, and it was only a tenner), up the very slippery road - the camp's gritter broke down on the day it snowed, apparently - and not a porter in sight, or even a nice hot bowl of garlic soup waiting for me at the top.
So, what's been happening recently? The dog is still alive...even though our vet, George (aka Harold Shipman, due to his keenness to offer Dog the final solution), keeps hinting that it's time for him to go, Dog has been frisky as anything since the cold weather (well, he chased a pigeon on Saturday, if that counts) so I cannot bring myself to make the scary appointment on Friday. He has a stay of execution.
I've just started reading the Twins Roald Dahl's 'The Witches' as a bedtime story. Twin 1 seemed somewhat concerned at the revelation that witches don't wear black hats and carry broomsticks, they just look like normal ladies. She insisted on phoning her dad and checking whether or not I was a witch. He replied that as I have a huge hooter and an even bigger arse that I most definitely am a witch. Twin 1 seemed to take it in her stride, and I even think it might have given me a little bit more authority around the house. In fact, this evening she even apologised for getting huffy with me when I told her to practice her spellings, quite possibly due to the fear of magical repercussions. So me having a huge hooter and an enormous arse and being a witch may be to my advantage....
Living dogs and slippery slopes and real witches aside, I think the most exciting thing that's happened this week is that someone called Oona has slipped a flyer through the door offering her cleaning services. She says 'no job too small' (no chance of that in this house) and 'I love to clean!' (clearly Oona and I are from a different gene pool). The flyer is on the pinboard in the kitchen, tempting me in just the same way that a free five pound play on on Sun Bingo would tempt someone with an online gambling habit. Oh, Oona, how I long to have you round to clean the cooker, wipe the mould, scour the limescale and make my life happier all round - just need to get one more teensy little dod of work in to pay for you!
Right then, almost out of charge. Hope it's a bit warmer where you are than it is here. Take care xxx