Happy birthday Mrs T, just in time, 3 minutes to miiiid-night as Iron Maiden may sing, but lets not forget I live with Mrs T and have wished her a happy birthday today, a few times. Once is enough, we don’t need reminding once you get to my age. And I know this blog is predominantly for the Yoof, who like woodland stalemates and fungi, but just.. just… well it’s been a fine birthday from where i was standing and I saw the lot apart from the 9-2pm shift when I was working.
My old cafetière cracked a couple of days ago and then I threw it in a fit of rage into the recycling bin, no non bags, therefore anything goes; I’ve got a hose, I can clean it out. So I’ve got a modern and very contemporary cafetière now, far more modern than M or N’s. I see myself as now very much “down with the kids”. So don’t look at me or i’ll stab you.
This weekend we go to Edale; Dalehead Bunkhouse, National Trust fans and so if anyone wants to stalk me or find out what a c*** I really am, then you know where I am, just ask for Shrawley. So more exciting news to follow as we watch our government fracture in front of our eyes and the world’s eyes. Its almost like we’re a laughing stock as opposed to a chicken stock or a vegetable stock. Really I’m not sure what’s worse, the rest of them all or “The Lighthouse Family”