I have so much to tell you. And a lot of it will be boring. Sorry.

Erm... Rose turned 60, we went out for a meal after work at the Ramada, which was pleasant. Then the next day saw a night out with Andrea, Karen, Vicky, and some others. Was rather nice. Everywhere is non-smoking now, which was odd but definitely better. I was going to be good and not smoke, but Andrea texted me to ask if I could pick up ciggies on the way (I went straight from work) so of course I had to keep her company... A lot of places have simply opened their fire exits, added a couple of bouncers and maybe a table or umbrella, and called it a "terrace". So we got to see some of the uglier corners of Wrexham, as seen from the backs of drinking establishments.

The Saturday was busy - a hair appointment to sort out the block of dirty blonde growing out from the straw yellow I had achieved. I've never had my hair coloured properly in a salon before. It took ages. And at certain points I looked like a budget alien from Dr Who. Definitely worth it though; my hair looks a bit more normal now. That evening we joined a load of friends to go and watch Spiderman 3 after a bite to eat at Nando's. I enjoyed it, but of course it didn't quite meet the comic book fans' standards.

Then Sunday was a barbecue at Danny & Kerrie's. It was good, and the rain almost held off! Euan had fun, but of course when baby Anya had gone to bed the real drinking started. I couldn't really join in, because Euan was still wide awake and demanding attention, and anyway I was cold and tired, and they were drinking outside! I just dozed on the sofa until it was time to go. Next time I'll get Euan babysat.

Monday was a Bank Holiday, so Euan and I joined Uncle Dan and Nana Jan for a day down by the river in Chester. Some pleasant pottering, and a trip on a boat, but we weren't brave enough to take a rowing boat out with the dark clouds threatening! We opted for the safer steamboat. We finished the day with a pub meal in the Plough in Gresford, which was a bit pants. Note to self: don't eat there again.

The week in work was fairly uneventful. Friday was hectic though: a really early morning to pack and prepare for the weekend ahead, and a house viewing at 8am! Very pleasant couple. Then it was off to school and work, and we had a team meeting. The big news is that with 80% of our cases on hold we're going to keep ourselves busy doing some Class 2 NIC work. Yay! My speciality! And apparently it hasn't been touched since they took me off it, no real surprise there. At least it means no-one has messed up the tricky ones. Hopefully.

So we left work early, with Nicola in tow, popped to Sainsbury's and then on to pick Euan up from Nana Su. Once we had set off, he suggested, "I know Mummy, why don't we go to Alton Towers?" Yes, good idea Euan, since we've luckily got our bags packed and some accommodation booked. We found the Raddle Log Cabins eventually and got ourselves settled in, being joined by the rest of the gang as the evening wore on. The challenge was fitting all the cars in, tetris-style, between our cabins! We managed a pub meal in the Raddle Inn, which was rather nice. I had an early night, but I believe there was some drinking done on the Friday night in Cabin 2. Shocking behaviour.

Saturday morning was misty and fresh, and I soon had the smells of bacon and sausages drifting through the air. I'd already told Dan that with all the other stuff we were busy doing that weekend, he was only allowed to have his birthday between 8.55am and 9am. He didn't seem to mind. We handed out the "Dan-o-vision" T-shirts we'd made the previous week. After a cooked breakfast all round, we headed off in convoy to Alton Towers.

The rain stayed away, only sploshing down when we were already under cover, which I thought was very considerate of it. Unfortunately I had caught Steve's bug by this point, and had to take some lovely cold remedies to perk myself up again. By the time we got back to the cabins it was 6.30pm, with the Eurovision Song Contest starting at 8pm, and we had flags to put up and food to cook! Steve sorted out all the food and I messed about with decorations, so we were all ready to go by the time the others got back - they had stopped for a round of Extraordinary Golf.

I was feeling a bit washed out by this point, and more in a mood to sleep than party, so I put on my fancy dress (cheerleader) and Euan's (Darth Vader) to try and wake myself up. Some of the others followed suit, with Paul as Link from Zelda, Tom as someone from Top Gun (I never worked out which one), Rich in a smashing dinner suit, and Dan as Batman. Steve joined us as Jason in his hockey mask, wielding a machete. Especially spooky as we were staying in log cabins, I think you'll agree. Jayne wore a lovely grass skirt, and had brought a bag of party goodies, including union jack ties and comedy facial hair. Dan liked it a bit too much.

The party went well. Nicola won the sweepstake (Serbia), and everyone enjoyed themselves. There was even a bit of bouncy castle fun. I did well at staying awake, and even played cards of some sort, but apparently hit a wall because there's a photo of me asleep on a chair at about 4am.

I somehow managed another round of breakfasts the next day. I remember waking up just before 8 thinking, "Uuuurgh, vodka head. There's no way I could eat anything. I'll see if everyone else feels the same..." then plodding along to the other cabins to be met with an awful lot of chirpy people eager for sausages. So I got on with it, and had worked up an appetite by the time the food was ready.

We packed up and tidied up, which everyone helped with. Some of them were going on to do some more energetic stuff in Stoke somewhere, but Steve and I just wanted to go home! I slept for most of the afternoon, and have only just finished unpacking today.

It was a rather good weekend. And it was fantastic to catch up with friends I haven't seen for ages, and to make a new one - Carolynne hadn't met any of us before. Brave girl.

Roll on Eurovision 2008.

I have come to the conclusion that my estate agents are poo.

My house has been with them for 12 weeks now, during which time I have had 11 viewings and 2 offers. I know this is quite good. But they give me no feedback on what potential buyers say about my house, even though I know they ring each and every one of them up afterwards.

When I mentioned that our ability to buy Ty Canol depends directly on Steve's mum selling her house, and whether she can give Steve any money, they started pestering me about where her house was, how many bedrooms, who it was on the market with... bugger off!

And when Grandma died, at first they said they would leave me alone until further notice. Next day: phone call, viewing. OK, whatever.

Then I mentioned that I could sell up and move into Grandma's, removing the chain element, and they started asking me about what was happening with Grandma's house. Excuse me? Point one, she's just died, point two, it's not my business what mum does with the house, and point three it's definitely none of your business!

So that's just what they lack in delicacy, I can understand they're always trying to get more houses on their books.

But are they really trying to sell mine? About 8 weeks in, one of them happened to mention, "Yeah, it's the lack of parking that's putting people off." Hello? Big car park out back? Are you even looking at the right file?

And, "She said she was concerned there's no legal access?" Hello!!! I said to the estate agent, and to everyone who has been round, that although the house is sandwiched between Phil's house and garden, my solicitor ensured that there is a legal right of access at the back.

These people clearly don't speak to each other, and don't read the notes in the file, and don't... care. Apparently.

And if I had more time and energy, I would pester them. But I can't be bothered. I'll just let it run, and if it hasn't sold by the end of the year, I'll take it off the market and redecorate. I'm resigned to losing Ty Canol now. We just can't afford it on our own. Ah well.

So... we took Euan to the Lake District at the weekend. One of those cheap deals with the Sun, where you book it and then they charge you loads for all the extras... so I just refused the extras! It was still cheap, and we had gorgeous weather. We were in a smart caravan that had been adapted for use by disabled people. No idea why, must just have been where they had room.

When we got there, Steve went to sleep while I unpacked, then to keep Euan amused I asked if he wanted to go "exploring". That became his word for the duration of our stay. We found the entertainment bit, and it kept Euan entertained whilst I had a drink, and Steve joined us later on.

Saturday was spent at Lake Windermere, strolling to find lunch, then a nice ice cream, and we intended to hire a rowing boat, but it was £13. Thirteen pounds? Good grief. Anyway, we had to get the Park & Ride back to the car park before our ticket ran out, so we watched the swans for a while instead. Our shuttle was in the form of a road train, which entertained Euan more than any leaky old boat could.

We watched the entertainment both Saturday and Sunday nights, and I must admit I was impressed. OK, so the venue (the Showbar) was a vast, carpeted expanse of tables with kids everywhere and as many opportunities to sell you things as possible, but the people were really friendly. A band on Saturday, then the Funstars (those smiley chirpy young things with name badges) squeezed into the strangest outfits I've ever seen on Sunday. They could sing, and the choreography was good, and they really went for it considering the audience of about 80 people they were playing to! It's not high-season, of course, but they didn't shirk on the efforts to entertain.

We packed up and came home on Monday. Euan loved it from start to finish, and it was a nice change for me and Steve too. The place was cheesy, but it's not designed to appeal to my discerning eye, it's designed to keep Euan off my back for a while so we can all enjoy the break, which it did very effectively!

We were on strike on Tuesday. Same reasons as January. A lady rang today about her Tax Credit Overpayment, and said she'd tried yesterday but we were on strike. She asked why. I'm not sure what one is supposed to say... usually on the phone I keep my professionalism, and even when they ask me directly about the utter fuck-up that is Tax Credits, I calmly say, "I'm not able to comment." So I simply said, "We were on strike in support of our colleagues in the offices along the North Wales coast, which all look set to close, and in protest about the centralisation of our jobs." Factual, without saying, "And the pay's shit, and they're eroding away our decent conditions, and I can't believe they can get away with butchering the civil service with so little media coverage. Fucking conspiracy, I tell you."

So as not to waste the Strike Day, I sorted Euan's toys into Keeps and Charity, and Steve cleared out the shed... again. I swear the mess breeds in there! Then we bought decking to line the dodgy shed floor, and Colin and his trusty trailer helped collect a fridge-freezer from Steve's auntie, and a tumble dryer I bought form Laura in work. Hooray, white goods! The dryer I used to keep in there was twenty years old, and broke down ages ago with a horrible noise that got all the local dogs barking. And my fridge is rather nicely concealed under the worktop, with a beech-veneered door to match the kitchen... which was fine until the door started disintegrating, and now it won't close properly. So Plan B is the tall fridge-freezer in the shed - great idea until the middle of winter, when two sets of keys and braving the elements will be way too much effort for one cup of tea!

At some point before the weather turns, I need to rip out the knackered fridge and replace it. But if I'm doing that, then I'll be very tempted to re-do the whole kitchen, which is badly-designed. And if I'm replacing the kitchen, why am I selling the house? So I might just take out the old fridge, and "make good" as I believe it's known, on the gap it leaves. Stupid fridge.

And today was back to work. I had quite a productive day, and no-one ranted at me too much. Went for lunch with Andrea. Came home. Did chores. Wrote Babble. Organised stuff. Consoled Steve about some football or other.