Riding a Bike
I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long without blogging, I’m wondering if I can still string a sentence together to be honest. Well that’s one sentence down and I’m still here so I guess I still have the knack. Now, that’s two. Now that’s three. You catch my drift. I’ll stop it now.
So! Anyway, I’m still mucking about on the keyboard. vjdagbhjagbrhabv See, just like that. They say lots of things are ‘like riding a bike’ and I’m hoping that blogging is like that too, although less energetic and without all the sweating and silly tight shorts. I guess I’m back on the bike now, one foot poised on a pedal, the other balancing me on the gravel – holding the handlebars tightly, nudging the brake with my thumb. Ready…..Steady….Go!
I’ve raced through the summer hols one way or another. The days seem to have blurred past me for sure. Both kids have been equal parts angels and demons, and I’ve had more than my fair share of chocolate milk on the carpet and honey on the sofa, but I guess that’s just how it goes. They’ve also made biscuits, gone on bike rides, watched too much telly, been cute and refused to tidy their bedrooms. Same old, same old.
As for me I suspect I’ve been a walking nightmare. My steroids have made me a right miserable git, as opposed to the usual bundle of energy that I usually turn into. Ah well. Hopefully I’ll get off them soon, and in the meantime it’s a great excuse to eat too much and blame the chipmunk cheeks on the medication rather than too many pieces of cake. Thanks so much for all your lovely supportive messages on my ‘Arse’ post, they meant more than you know. T’is true!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx There’s loads of kisses for you all. I’ve gone all over-affectionate now. *blushes bright red*
News from the Brink of Bedlam household. Erm…..(scratches head). Sausage has decided to shout ‘Bogies!’ all the time, at the telly, at me, at his toys. It is officially an adjective at this house, eg ‘Bogey-pants!’ ‘Bogey-head!’ to name a few. Everything has gone rather ‘Bogeyesque’. I suppose I should be pleased he is using the english language in a creative way, but it just winds me up something chronic.
Darlek is refusing to wear anything remotely feminine and turns her nose up at anything pink, frilly or with kittens on and is embracing the tomboy image, which I can’t say I mind too much. A recent trip to Tesco led to the acquisition of three boys T’shirts that have Mario on and other boyish icons that I can’t bring to mind (Moshi Monsters or summat), and a pair of jungle army camouflauge style pants. If anyone would like to tell me how to spell ‘camoflauge’ I’d greatly appreciate it. I’ve messed around with the spell check and the red line obstinately refuses to go away.
Horace has broken the puter in the front room, so we can no longer record telly or play Spotify, which is nice. I have the decomposing corpse of the puter lying in the corner of the room. I almost feel sorry for it with all its wires and innards lying there open to the elements. Horace keeps prodding it with a screwdriver, but it doesn’t seem to help much. I swear I can hear it whimpering every now and then. It had a terminal virus apparently. We should probably have a puter funeral.
Well, that’s enough posting/riding the bike for now. I still have the penguin project pending, it’s been so delayed and I’m so sorry. I’ve just felt utterly incapable of doing anything apart from feeding, cleaning, exercising the kids and hoovering very occasionally. The goddam black dog has been a proper nuisance. He will be found a new home shortly.
Reet, I’m off to bed. The kids will no doubt wake early and demand breakfast and CBeebies at some stupid hour, so self preservation tells me to shurrup and go sleep. Good night and wishing you all health, happiness and above all sanity throughout the remainder of the summer holidays. If you could wish me the same in return I’ll be very grateful. ;O)