Tiptoeing through mud
We seem to be tiptoeing through mud at the moment. Until yesterday, when it was dark Mum was taking us out in the front garden when we needed to go out. There was an ‘incident’ with some concrete yesterday which meant Mum didn’t want us walking across the drive for the rest of the day. You wouldn’t think that was so bad, but our route out to the back garden involves crossing a small bridge made of some old planks, so that we don’t stand on the temporary oil line. In the light that’s not so bad. In the dark it freaks Mum out something dreadful as she’s sure one of us will step on the oil line. She’s also pretty sure it’s most likely going to be her.
Back garden mud bath
As it is, poor Aristotle is beside himself seeing the state of some of his lovely garden. It doesn’t matter how many times Mum tells him that it will all grow back and she’ll help him fix it, he really isn’t happy. He’s also complaining that he can’t get to his potatoes. Mum has promised that she will try to sort that out in the next day or two, but with the concrete incident it went out of her mind yesterday.
I spent most of my day trying to fix a problem with signing up to have my diary straight to your inbox. In the end I emailed the software people and asked them why it isn’t working right. I haven’t had a reply yet.
Last day of the week
Today we are all looking forward to the weekend and there being no building work for a couple of days. Never have weekends felt so precious. Mum says she may just stay in her pyjamas the whole time, which is ok as long as she doesn’t mind taking us out dressed like that.
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