Goodness me, that time already!

I've been wrapping Christmas gifts. I want to send the parcels abroad before the 1st of December, and we usually start the mammoth task of writing all the Christmas cards and addressing the envelopes before then, too, so that the ones for furthest away can be sent on 1st December.

I'm seriously considering getting somewhere to make cards from photos of the children, for Rob's Swedish relations, because that's the sort of thing they love (though I also love receiving them, really, and always feel slightly tacky sending them - what's THAT double-standard about?!) and it would make things easier.

We're also working on making some of them ourselves, this year. But I dunno. I think that's a project I need to start a lot earlier in the year if it's going to get anywhere.

Rats, weasels, thieves and stoats

Actually, mink, really. Bloody pests.

Some putrescent excuse for a human being has skimmed my card details from somewhere and spent sixty pounds of my overdraft on - of all things! - prepaid phone time, one lot with Orange and one with O2. I'm decidedly unimpressed. My bank have, of course, cancelled the card and passed the issue on to their fraud department and they will send me a new card and PIN sometime before the heat-death of the universe, but meanwhiel it's very annoying.

I can only be glad that it's the account which never holds more than £100 - the other account cards don't get used out and about much.

Drat.

However, we are looking forward to our weekend gallivant into London. Rob is choosing what we're going to do en famille during the day, and then he will take the girls for a meal while I meet some adults in a pub for drinks. Well, drink. Possibly, if I feel decadent. I'll definitely meet them though. And then we will all go home together on the train.

(Linnea has abandoned her dinosaur so Emer has found peeenk doddú [pink goggles] and is digging it out with hammer, chisel, and paintbrush).

Brief whine

I'm feeling all left out of Linnea's inner life again. She just mostly doesn't want me to do stuff with her. Sometimes she does, and she's happy to do my stuff with me, or Emer's stuff with Emer, but in general, she's...

... as independent as she ever was, I suppose.