is back in Dublin, trying to recover something of the arrangements that Sis-in-Law managed to bugger up before swanning off to Italy for two weeks.
But enough moaning. There were
things to celebrate that should
have been mentioned and weren't.*
Summer has arrived at last and should be with us until the beginning of Wimbledon, when it will suddenly revert back to the stormy season. The sun is shining, the sound of the neighbour's mower is drowning out the birdsong, the smoke from next door's barbecue is making me wheeze, but - hey, not complaining, because I can use the heat as an excuse not to cook whle MWNN
is away, and live on salad and canned tuna. That should see off the extra weight those comfort childhood sweets put on the other week.* totkat
was promoted and now
manages the team that is responsible for I know not what in interactive TV out at Television Centre. So when Sir Cliff starts singing Summer Holiday
at Wimbledon when you press your red button this year, you know who to
I've had some nominations at several award sites, for which I know
I have to thank myfeetshowit
for at least one of them.