Kinda cold
It's 17C. I'm dressed and cold, Linnea is dressed and fine, Emer is wearing pants and a onesie/popper-fastened vest and is fine.
I dreamed about central heating last night.
I'm going to give it another few hours - long enough to take electricity and gas meter readings and phone the billing company with them - and then see about turning it on. I guess we better finish insulating the attic today.
We aren't going out; yesterday's expedition to Oxford was fabulous but I had stupid period issues and ended up lying on the footpath on the way home, and then weaved drunkenly from sugar-hit to sugar-hit to get home. I also went pale-normal-pale-normal a lot. But I was ok really.
I think I may need to see doctors about this stupid problem, if it's going to go on.
The trip to the museum itself was wonderful; we saw bees doing their waggle dance to show where the nectar was, and loads of skeletons, including a three-year-old elephant skeleton which upset Linnea, and talked about cartilage and fossils and apparently also the anatomy of a cockroach (I have no seen cockroaches; there was a glass case of them. They are vile, vile, vile. I much preferred the katydids and the tarantula). Emer was old enough to really enjoy the trip this time, which was lovely, and Linnea had a great time, and we also had a magnificent picnic, and found the exercise books I wanted Linnea to have in a WH Smiths there - their own brand, so I expect I can get them from the website in future.
The train from Reading to Oxford spent a lot of time blowing its whistle or horn - going choo choo, anyway, so Emer joined in, but since she was nothing like as loud as the train itself, let alone the train's whistle, I felt that was ok. Linnea really enjoyed looking at all the things going past.
I dreamed about central heating last night.
I'm going to give it another few hours - long enough to take electricity and gas meter readings and phone the billing company with them - and then see about turning it on. I guess we better finish insulating the attic today.
We aren't going out; yesterday's expedition to Oxford was fabulous but I had stupid period issues and ended up lying on the footpath on the way home, and then weaved drunkenly from sugar-hit to sugar-hit to get home. I also went pale-normal-pale-normal a lot. But I was ok really.
I think I may need to see doctors about this stupid problem, if it's going to go on.
The trip to the museum itself was wonderful; we saw bees doing their waggle dance to show where the nectar was, and loads of skeletons, including a three-year-old elephant skeleton which upset Linnea, and talked about cartilage and fossils and apparently also the anatomy of a cockroach (I have no seen cockroaches; there was a glass case of them. They are vile, vile, vile. I much preferred the katydids and the tarantula). Emer was old enough to really enjoy the trip this time, which was lovely, and Linnea had a great time, and we also had a magnificent picnic, and found the exercise books I wanted Linnea to have in a WH Smiths there - their own brand, so I expect I can get them from the website in future.
The train from Reading to Oxford spent a lot of time blowing its whistle or horn - going choo choo, anyway, so Emer joined in, but since she was nothing like as loud as the train itself, let alone the train's whistle, I felt that was ok. Linnea really enjoyed looking at all the things going past.
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The cockroach-anatomy thing was fun! The big plastic model with red arrows was well-laid out so Linnea just picked an arrow and I read the label, with occasional extra explanations or translations where I thought the word might stump her ('tracheal system', for example; and I went into more detail about the spiracles being a bit like having noses down your sides). Maybe I should go into museum education work after all :)
The bees were my highlight. I could have watched them for ages and ages.
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You need to take care of yourself; if your girls had been turning pale and faint, you'd get them off to medical care quickly, wouldn't you? I am quite worried about you.
P.S. Cold?
Winter is icumin in. Ugh.