Mutton

I took it and measured it against my various cooking containers. And knives. I have no knife quite up to the job, unless I wait for Rob to come home, so all in one piece it is. That means... the lasagne dish.

Uh.

So I sliced a lemon and put that on the bottom of the dish, put the mutton in and squeezed it in at the edges to make it fit, chopped a large onion up and wedged bits in around it, sprinkled some rosemary on top, wrote thyme (time! the river tems! English is INSANE) on the shopping list, covered the meat and onion in tinfoil, and put it in the oven at GM3.

We Shall See. The nice thing about organic meat is that unless you actually dry it out it's very difficult to ruin beyond redemption.

HALP

three childrens can has paint

washin no can has

runnin away

ur chasin it rong

colour mixing DO NOT WANT

o halp

Ratweasels: in ur wallet dilutin ur curr & C

I have been saving up my spending money for a wild weekend spree, and I took out my hoarded coins this evening, handed them (a pound coin and a fifty pence) to Rob, and asked him to take Emer and go and buy biscuits. He had a quick look at the pound, which turned into a prolonged look, and I vaguely remembered a BBC News headline, and with sinking heart I said "Oh, no, is it fake?"

Yup.

I briefly tried to imagine a world in which I got to have biscuits anyway - no dice, even when I checked with Rob whose conscience is not as, hahahaha, tightly honed to "stun" as mine - and it's sitting on the table now lurking at me. Tomorrow I shall stop a policeperson in the street and give it to them.

Rob turned out his pockets and found money so now we have biscuits. Hurrah!