A very busy but good weekend.

In brief... Simon gave me a lift into work on Friday, at some stupid time of the morning. I don't even know what time it was. It was damp and misty though, with that strange colour in the sky that tells you it's not normal to even be awake, let alone setting off for work.

Everyone liked the cakes. They didn't last long.

I got all the loose ends tied up, set my emails to AutoReply, and got another lift with Simon, this time to Chester. He really does drive ridiculously fast. I know it's dangerous, but you should feel the buzz from that acceleration. (Which is not to say I encourage the silly bugger, I tell him off if he does anything too stupid. I just accept that asking Simon for a lift anywhere means adding a little bit of risk to your day.)

On to Alton Towers, for about seventeen helpings from the buffet (well, the price justified the gluttony) and a few drinks with Greg, Andy, Phil, Chris, Mark and John. Really nice evening, laughed a lot.

Went on rollercoasters the next day, and met up with more of the gang. The geeky bits were better than I thought they would be. Went back to spend a few hours in the lovely jacuzzis at the hotel. The on for an Indian and back to Paul's to stay the night. There were three of us crammed into his room, and poor Paul ended up on the sofa of the house he shares. Fun.

Drayton Manor Park was OK - again, I wasn't used to the geeky bits so I felt like an intruder. Rollercoasters were fun though.

Got home late, and started washing clothes again so I can pack them tomorrow!

I've been very aware this week that I won't see Euan for quite a while.

After a pleasant weekend with him, it was back into the nursery/work routine, which I did in French on Monday. Euan knows what to do in the morning, so saying the words in French should help him make the connection... or he might just continue to give me that slightly puzzled and mildly worried look. Worth a try though.

Monday in work was the usual slightly furtive start to the day as everyone tries to remember which colleagues they might conceivably have offended on Friday. Nicola and I were fairly confident (via earlier texts) that we had both staggered through the night with about as much dignity as can be expected after that much vodka.

Monday night was the kind where Euan and the cat have a competition to see who can make the loudest, most persistent, most irritating noise, whilst I'm trying to cook. After Euan had rejected two different platefuls of food, and I dropped the bacon (mine!) on the mucky worktop where the cat had been sleeping, I burst into tears, kicked the cat out and sent Euan to his room for five minutes.

In the calm that ensued, I cleared up the kitchen, got my tea made, then let Euan come back downstairs... and he ate his tea like an angel. Good grief, must learn to be strict a bit earlier in future. Maybe before I ruin my food!

He was lovely on Tuesday night, all hugs and chattering. We took Euan's route home, which means that every time we came to a junction I would ask, "Which way now, Euan?" and he'd say "That way!" and off we would go. It takes longer because he chooses at random, but he loves the game, and when I've had enough I just say, "We're going this way now; we're going home," and he starts mumbling, "This way now, this way? Go home."

Then when I dropped him off at nursery on Wednesday morning, I knew that would be it for three weeks. Usually, I let him disappear off into the crowd of kids and slink away so he doesn't get upset, but that morning I asked him for a kiss. He came running back to me, and gave me a huge cuddle and a big smacking kiss, before going back to the toys. Bless him, he couldn't have given me a better goodbye if he'd known how long it would be...

Wednesday was John's birthday, so Nicola and I met him for lunch in Fat Cat's. It was very pleasant. A bit rushed, but John could only meet at 1pm, so I'd got some traveller's cheques and euros sorted out first.

Wednesday night... Mark (Gareth's mate) came to clear all the bags of rubble from the yard. Mum came round for a catch-up, as she's been away on a dancing weekend to Southport. I made us pasta bolognaise, and we shared a bottle of wine, so there went my packing or tidying or preparations!

Today passed without incident, but I booked our flights - out to Amsterdam on Monday, and back from Rome three weeks tomorrow. It finally feels real now. I'm scared and excited and can't wait, all at once.

Then I went round to Steve's and watched TV, which is a novelty since I got rid of the licence. He points out the fantastic programmes I'm missing, I point out all the time-wasting crap I'm missing. We agreed to differ, and watched Spooks. I admit, I enjoyed it.

It's generally accepted that when it's your birthday, you take cakes into work. Going out for a meal is optional. We seem to have had non-stop cream cakes for weeks now, which isn't doing my waistline any good, but helps the day go more enjoyably. As it's my birthday next week, (when I'm off) I'll take cakes in tomorrow, but I can't pick them up on the way because I don't drive... so I've been baking. Sponge cakes, chocolate cakes, and mini apple pies.

I now have to pack for the weekend, as we're off to Alton Towers on Friday night, then staying at Paul's Saturday night, then Drayton Manor Park on Sunday. Hopefully I'll have enough time on Monday to unpack and repack for the Eurowander.

Mad hectic busy crazy!

Wouldn't swap it for anything though.

Normal week in work. Evenings spent tidying up the house.

Went to B&Q on Wednesday after work, as Gareth had said he'd help me work out what to buy. I love DIY shops, so many possibilities! Except I usually stand there knowing that here is a shop with everything I need to make my home gorgeous, but I lack the skills and knowledge to bring my imagined projects to fruition. Then I usually buy another tester pot of brightly-coloured wall paint (about £1) to do another giant animal or two in Euan's room. I know my limits...

I bought the rest of the bark I would need for the chickens to scratch around in, and two packs of mirror tiles. (When Ian gave me a lift home on Thursday and I recounted the story to him, he admitted that the first thing that sprang to mind was that I'd be putting them up above my bed. Cue my shocked expression, and "You must have quite a distorted impression of me." If anyone reading this thought the same thing, shame on you!) They're to go on the at the bottom of the stairs. It goes from ground level all the way up to the roof, and is a bland expanse of peachiness. I have been searching in vain for some funky pictures to put there to break it up.

So the mirror tiles are to go in a scatter pattern, so that when you come down the stairs you are not greeted with yourself, but with glimpses of bits of yourself. (I couldn't cope with a full-length mirror reflecting my dishevelled image first thing in the morning anyway.) I'll need a ladder to do it properly, so I'm hoping to catch Phil Next Door when he's around and ask to borrow his. He probably wouldn't mind me just using it for an hour, but I'd prefer to ask first.

I did have a moment of inspiration, where I thought I could arrange three or four tiles at a time into Tetris shapes, and then I could imagine them falling down the wall... But maybe that's just a bit odd. I don't know. It's a thin line between genius and madness, and I think that particular idea crosses over into underpants-on-head territory. More consideration needed before I commit to one idea. Representations of and .

So yeah. Wednesday evening was spent in the Coedpoeth pubs with Gareth. Saw Ben, who used to be the barman in the Turf. He asked after Kelly, and I explained that no-one had heard from her for a while, but that a girl in work had found this. Looks like she's still having fun.

Went out on Friday night, as Big Rich is leaving us (career break, rather than resignation) and going to Australia. Photos in Photos section. Nicola and I were determined to stay coherent, and not do anything stupid. I think we did OK. Did get rather drunk though. Best part of the night was right at the start in Lloyds - we had installed ourselves in one of the booths, and a group of people arrived and took the next one along. There was a thin girl - long legs, short skirt - who seemed to be bossing them about, then she put a pink banner on, so it was presumably her birthday. She walked over to the DJ (he had asked anyone celebrating birthdays, hen nights etc to let him know) so we were expecting an announcement. Instead, he put Dirrty on. I said to Nic, "If she does The Dance, I will quite possibly piss myself laughing."

She did The Dance. Thing was, there she was, gyrating away, being joined by her less attractive friends, on an empty dancefloor right at the start of the night. She even did the pseudo-masturbation bit. And the jiggling. And she dropped to floor level and wiggled about down there a few times, my favourite being the one where she lost her balance and had to catch herself. We laughed. A lot. Bless her, she's probably spent months practising that. I'm not saying she was awful, just... trying a little too hard. I could see her bum, several times. As we left, we walked past a lot of bemused faces, all transfixed by this fascinating little show.

Classic. Wish I could have got away with filming it without being obvious.

Picked Euan up Saturday lunchtime - no hangover, hooray.

Finally had my gorgeous new bed delivered, and because it had taken so long I got a free duvet, as promised. A nice 13.5 tog one, which will be handy because the weather's getting colder. One thing about living up a hill is that it's always breezier and chillier up here. Out with the , in with the . I've got it the other way round, because I never was quite happy about having all those books above my head. The shelves probably won't fall down, as Karl's dad Mark put them up, but the books might be precariously stacked.

I haven't been so excited about going to bed (alone) since Christmas Eve when I was little.

Quite a productive week, all things considered. Oh, and I bought the Interrail passes for the Europe trip. And Gareth's friend is coming round on Wednesday to collect all the sacks of rubbish, so I'll be able to order my eglu when I get back from my travels.

Hooray!

The garden party was a success!

(I doubt Her Majesty the Queen would agree, but then I suspect that her definition of garden party is more restrictive than mine. Hers involves more cucumber sandwiches and floral dresses, I believe. Mine has more mud and beer.)

May I present you with... ... drumroll please... and !

Yep, the hideously overgrown lavender bush is gone, the intricately woven brambles are no more, the dead Christmas tree (no, I didn't know it was there) has been removed, and the tangled thatch-like mat of grass and weeds has been consigned to the Green Wheelie Bin In The Sky. Special mention also goes to the broken milk bottles, occasional scraps of rubbish, and hundreds of relocated (occasionally lacerated) worms. Regrettably there were certain unavoidable displacements of whole families of creepy-crawlies, but the relief effort is underway, and these refugees should be rehomed quite easily.

The day started with bad news - Ste hadn't recovered sufficiently from the night before to make the long journey. He said he was going to try and set off in about an hour, so I told him just to make sure he was safe to drive.

Euan couldn't understand why I didn't want to start painting or playing with plasticine, so he started getting bored. Mum phoned, I spoke to her, then Euan took over. Of course, he didn't want to hang up, then he cried when he heard the dialling tone. So, to try and stem the tears before it turned into a big tantrum, I phoned Dan to try and get him to talk to Euan - no luck, he was just sitting down in front of the F1 with a plateful of food. So I phoned Dad, who for once wasn't mad busy, and finally Euan got his conversation. I think it kept Dad entertained too, so everybody wins.

Meanwhile, Jason arrived, and wasted no time in getting an assortment of tools unloaded and making a start in the yard. As he quite rightly pointed out, if we started work straight away, other people would be encouraged to join in when they arrived. Nicola was the next to arrive, and we stood and watched in awe as Jason started slicing effectively through the undergrowth with a machete. Looks like those peaceful walks in the woods provided plenty of practice.

When questioned on how much work was involved, I had shrugged and replied that it was a gravelly patch with rocks in, and a lot of overgrown foliage. I didn't know what was underneath, and I didn't know how securely fixed the edging stones were. Jason discovered that the gravelly bit I could see was just the top layer. Underneath that were the remains of a slate rockery of some description, and underneath that appeared to have just been a flowerbed. The plants had been growing in the composted remains of the older plants, as the soil was too full of clay. Add into the mix a few broken milk bottles and some old pipework, and it wasn't going to be an easy job. A sort of lucky dip with very sharp edges.

A blow-by-blow account of moving dirt around would get tedious, so I'll just say that Jason worked tirelessly (I'm sure he got some of his relatives to come and help whilst Paul, Nicola, Euan and I nipped to B&Q for supplies, because when we came back he'd done most of the work), and Nicola did far more work than me. In my defence though, I was running around trying to make sure people had food and drinks. Paul found a happy little corner with my newly-purchased sander, and the pub-style bench that Rose gave me a few weeks ago. I'm sure his hands must still feel blurry, because he got a lot of sanding done. John did some shovelling too, although the image this conjured up for me was Mrs Long's GCSE English class eight years ago, studying Seamus Heaney's Digging.

Ryan and his girlfriend couldn't help with the physical stuff, because they both have back problems, but as I had reassured people from the start, what I really wanted was moral support.

We put any worms we found in a basket to keep them safe whilst the earth was being heaved about, but Euan kept helpfully emptying them back into the rockery. "Snakes" apparently. So it was probably a good thing that he went on an outing with Mum and Grandma, for the sake of my sanity: "No, Euan, they're not snakes, they're worms. Yes, worms. No, leave them in the - Euan! EUAN! No. Stop! STOP IT! Don't move. Good boy, well done. Don't tip the worms out, they're happy where they... oh. Oh dear. Well, Mummy's not picking them up again."

The food went down well - I had bought too much. No, actually, I had bought about the right amount, but several people didn't turn up, having said they would. (I don't mean Ste. He was feeling seriously unwell, to the extent that he suspected his drink had been spiked, and he desperately wanted to come, but a four hour drive when the speedometer appears to be a seahorse is probably not advisable.) Two other definites turned into definitely-nots, without a phone call or a text, and four maybes didn't make it either. I should be able to get through seven people's worth of food before it goes off - luckily I decided to treat the kind people who had come to help me out, and bought some rather nice stuff. I'm not annoyed at the people who didn't turn up, I just feel a bit hurt that I wasn't worth a 10p text to say "Can't come got too wasted hung over c u 2moro" or equivalent. Although I'm aware that after only 4 hours' sleep I'm likely to overreact...

When we had been to B&Q earlier in the day (a spade had broken on a particularly solid lump and we needed more heavy-duty sacks), I had bumped into Gareth who works there. I've known him since I moved up to Coedpoeth because when I used to do overtime until 8pm, he would just be finishing work and we used to get the same bus home sometimes. He's always been lovely and chatty, and he also seems to know everyone in the village. I stopped for a chat, explained the spades and sacks, and he said "You live on Heol Llewelyn, don't you?" and we worked out that his friend lived just up the road, and his mother lived just round the corner. When I pinpointed my house (by who my neighbours were, rather than geography) he said, "Oh right, I wondered who'd bought that place" as if he'd just found a lost jigsaw piece. I invited him up to share a few beers later on when he'd finished and he said he'd see us later. I also had no idea he went to school with Phil Next Door.

When he arrived, Mum, Grandma and Euan had come back so the house was quite full. He helped out with the digging and smashing of rocks, and said he had a mate just up the road whose van would be available after Tuesday if I wanted to shift the sacks of rubble (over twenty of them in total). He had plenty of advice about how to do the next bit (fenceposts first, then bark, gotcha) and said he'd help anyway. Not everyone at the party was aware that I knew Gareth before, so some of them assumed I'd just made a new friend on my shopping trip!

As it got dark, we moved inside, drinking a few well-earned beers, and Euan ran around in an effort to keep attention focused on him.

People started leaving in stages, until it was just me, Nicola, Paul and John left. Oh, and a Scalextric track. Well, there was carpet space again, so I thought I'd have a go. I dozed off on the sofa at about 2am. I've been exhausted today, but it was worth it. It's just a double party/garden cleanup operation now: Normal bottles, bathroom and carpet cleaning, but with added muck trodden into the cream carpet (thanks Euan). It will be worth it when I finally get my chickens.

I think it's safe to say that when it comes to making unusual party themes work, enthusiasm, optimism and good friends help a lot. But then of course, so do machetes and sledgehammers.

Not long since my last babble, but I've been busy.

Spent Saturday morning getting the house into a more presentable state. It wasn't that bad, but whilst I can keep on top of everyday tasks, stuff like cleaning windows or washing the bathroom floor gets neglected. It's OK, I'm still playing at being Grown-Up, so I don't have to have a perfect housework routine. The full-time job, mortgage and offspring are just an elaborate façade to trick people into thinking I know what I'm doing.

The house free of clutter, and even sparkling in places (not quite everywhere, but as long as no-one looks too closely I'll get away with it), I zoomed off to Liverpool. Dropped off my returns parcel for Figleaves.com on the way - I'm not worried about ordering more than I need, as it's so easy to send stuff back. In this case, it was a bikini: lovely pattern, and in theory a nice design, but the fit was really weird. I'll keep looking.

Spoke to a little old lady at the bus stop. Well, she spoke to me, and I nodded and agreed - about the weather, the summer we'd had in general, how handy it was that pensioners got free travel on these buses now, as she lived down on the estate, and normally she liked the walk but as it was raining, you know, and she only came for lard and bread, and she'd spent five pounds! At this point she showed me the plant she'd bought, and then went on to say about spending too much money on seed for the wild birds, but she loved to have them in her garden. She has a budgie too, and he tweets at her, as if he understands everything. She lives on her own, you know, and she's 80 in a fortnight, but all the animals come to see her, even when she went into town the other week, and a pigeon came and sat on her foot.

This fluid monologue was punctuated by pauses to greet people as they were walking past, as she was a part of that circle of people in Coedpoeth who still know each other and ask after each other's health and children. I must admit, I'm jealous. Hypocritically, I don't envy them the 20 or 30 years they've spent in their routines, just the friendships they've gained along the way. I've lived in Coedy for three years now, and I still feel like an outsider. I know a couple of people from work who live here, but rarely come across them in the shop or the chippy. Phil Next Door is friendly enough, as is his mother who pops in, and they're both lovely with Euan. Trevor and Mary (the other next-door, but not the other side, as my house sits in a funny place) are always really nice to me, and to be honest I couldn't ask for better neighbours. I'm not sure exactly what it is that seems lacking - a vague perception that some people from the village have a proper community, whereas I have acquaintances. And yet, everyone's always really friendly to me. And I love talking to the pensioners on the bus. It could be a lot worse.

Anyway, onto the train and off to Liverpool, as I said. (Why do they change at bloody Bidston? If there's a more desolate and unwelcoming station, I've never seen it, and wouldn't wish to. It sits on a flat and boring bit of scrub, where it's always windy, and there are only a couple of motorways to distract the eye, boxing in the sullen little platform. I prefer the ones that change at Chester...) Got some nice new clothes, and spent too much in the sale at La Senza, but... it was a sale! Of course I'm going to spend money there if they reduce their undergarments to the same prices as, for example, Primark. Also got a couple of new tops, and a gorgeous suede skirt - I'm not sure what's happening to me, but I've started occasionally wearing skirts. I've even been known to put my hair up in bunches. It's rather unnerving to have girly habits creep up on me. Presumably it's something to do with hormones - most things are, for women.

Also bought a nice versatile little bag, intended for use on my wandering European holiday in a couple of weeks. When Mum saw it, she was horrified. "You're going to pack three weeks' worth of stuff into that? I couldn't use it as an overnight bag!" I explained that from experience, how much I pack depends on how much space I've got. So, I worked out what size of bag I would be happy to carry around if there was nowhere safe to leave it, and I will pack accordingly. I'd already decided just to take one week's worth of clothes, and find a launderette when necessary. It'll be fine.

Came home with Euan, did more housework, baked loads of chocolate cakes for the party. Euan loved getting messy (surprise) and enjoyed the cake mix even more. Made an apple pie, because I had some apples that needed using up as they were getting a bit squidgy. I'd never tried making a pie before, and I only had cake tins - not pie tins - but it like it's worked. I won't know until we cut into it. I'm just glad the pastry turned out OK, as it's years since I attempted that.

Got to sleep at 4am, after cleaning up the kitchen, and Euan kindly woke me by putting a wooden ark on my head, and saying "Amimals" at 8am.

People will start turning up soon, and the weather's looking promising (cloudy but dry), so I might actually get something constructive done! I've taken a few "" pictures of the yard, in the optimistic hope that it will be different enough later on for it to be worth taking "after" pictures. If nothing else, the picture shows why I want to do something about it!

Weird week. Kind of bad news/good news on all counts.

Euan threw orange juice all over the keyboard on Monday, and despite a careful rinse and dry, it refused to work properly... I thought it was worth an appeal for help and advice on the forums, as there's a lot of collective knowledge there, but the general prognosis was poor. Chris came to my rescue, and offered me a keyboard he got for free and couldn't sell on eBay. Knowing he had a clever Paypal account which accepts credit card payments, I chucked the postage his way, and by Thursday I was back up-and-running. Hooray for kind friends, technology, and postmen. So that was bad news turning into good news.

In other news, Rich got in touch for the first time in about ten months. It was one of those "But I thought you were ignoring me," "No, but I assumed you weren't talking to me..." conversations. He was going to pop up to the house for a catch up on Tuesday night, but was struck down with tonsilitis. That was good news turning into bad news. He might make it to the party on Sunday though.

Oh yes, the party... I've been considering for a while the possibility of inviting a few friends round for some cans whilst we smash up my horrible rockery. This might sound selfish, but consider this: a girl wanders into her yard and starts thumping a big rock with a sledgehammer. It doesn't budge, but the noise brings all the neighbours to their windows. The girl then tries to wander nonchalantly back into the house, pretending that she meant to do that, no, really... So really I want people there for moral support and reassurance. The manual labour is purely optional. The problem was finding a weekend where I was free, and where the weather could be counted on.

Over a very pleasant lunch with Nicola (we've discovered a funky little coffee/sandwich shop next door to the new Subway), we were discussing the feasibility of holding the party this weekend. The weather forecast varied between bright and rainy, depending on the source. In the end we decided that we would make the decision to have fun on Sunday afternoon, whether that involved shifting rocks around in the sun, or watching DVDs whilst it rained outside. Or maybe even both. And if anyone fancied joining us, they would be quite welcome.

So I've sent an email or two, thrown a few texts around, and Sunday looks like it could be fun. A few people seem unsure of the motives behind the party, which is quite upsetting really. They'll understand when they get here, hopefully. I tried in vain to persuade Nigel from work to join us, but he didn't seem keen. Actually, he was adamant from the start that he wouldn't be coming. I think he's suspicious about my motives too, so I'm certainly not winning people's confidence this week.

Hopefully it will all work out OK, even though the weather is looking increasingly dreary. Tesco.com are delivering a fair amount of party food tomorrow night, and I intend to bake little chocolate cakes if I have time. Oh, and I also plan to do little Yorkshire puddings, to be filled with golden syrup and ice cream. I might get carried away in the kitchen, and forget about the garden.

I've offered spare beds/sofas/beanbags to those travelling from further afield, so the house will be fairly full on Sunday night. I'll be stepping over slumbering bodies as I get ready for work and take Euan to nursery, but maybe they'll recover in time for a pub lunch in town.

Speaking of work, it's been quite a turbulent week. I won't go into detail - partly because it's not an exciting or original situation, just boring office politics, partly because it would be tricky to disguise identities and therefore not my kind of thing. Suffice it to say, I spent a lot of time clenching my fists, biting hard on pencils, and "going to do some filing" whilst taking several deep breaths. Seems to be blowing over now though. I hope.

Ooh, and one other thing! (It's been a busier week than I thought.) I bought a bed ages ago. I know exactly when I bought it, because I mentioned it in Babblings - how useful. They phoned to arrange delivery 4 weeks later, as promised, but could only offer me a weekday or the Saturday of Andrea's wedding. Not helpful, so they said they'd phone again in a couple of weeks. Having heard nothing, I rang to enquire politely where my bed was, y'know, cos it was like, nearly two months now? Profuse apologies and explanations for delays, a delivery slot to suit me - next Saturday afternoon - and a freebie new quilt "for my patience". Bargain. Especially since I bought new pillows and a mattress protector last week, so the quilt will complete the set. Am I psychic? Or are they?

Oh, and my manager approved my three weeks' leave, and Karl is taking Euan to Cardiff for a fortnight, so holiday plans are steaming ahead.

Last week passed without much incident. Bank Holiday Monday was spent at Moreton Hall Garden Centre with Mum and Grandma. I was really down all day for some reason, and ended up in tears over a cuppa with Mum. It had been quite an odd weekend really, and I was really missing Nick. I didn't feel I could bother anyone else with how much it was upsetting me, as it's been over a month now, but for some reason all I could think of at Andrea and Aidan's wedding was, "Nice. Pretty dress, matching flowers and suits etc. If I ever get married, it won't be an identikit version. It'll be a bit weird and different and the important bit certainly won't be how much it costs. The kind of thing Nick would approve of. Except that if it ever happens, he won't see it."

Which is not what you're supposed to be thinking as your friend is getting married.

Mum listened sympathetically, said some stuff that made me feel better, and commented that it was lucky I hadn't bothered putting any make up on that morning, or it would have been seriously smudged.

Cheered up a bit and bought a game pie from the shop, purely because it said "May contain shot" on the packaging. It was like an oversized pork pie, but the filling was... gamey. I'm sure there was some wild boar in there, possibly some venison, but couldn't distinguish any birdy tastes. Nice though. Disappointingly, I didn't find my teeth jarring against any lead pellets.

Went for some job advice Tuesday lunchtime, and was told that in my situation, I would be better off studying in my spare time and doing voluntary work to gain experience before going for a new job. Which is what I'd worked out anyway, but the advisor was helpful and not patronising, and gave me plenty of contact numbers. Ho hum.

Rumours did get round work about the shared room, but I suspect Aidan's gossipy nature rather than Nigel. Nigel's been too traumatised by his starring role in the photos on gemstuff. Although to be fair I also appear, briefly, on his site: The Judge. I feared for my life when he came thundering towards me after being sent the link by Carl. He refrained from actually injuring me there and then, but it's clearly affected him profoundly, as today the beard was gone! According to Carl this is a direct result of the photos. I have yet to speak to Nigel, but will gleefully threaten an updated picture for gemstuff.

Trip to Southport on Saturday, one very long day but thoroughly enjoyable. Euan loved it. New gallery added with a few snaps of the outing.

Paul popped round on Sunday, which was really nice. Hadn't seen him for a few weeks, and he's back to uni next week, to move into his house. We tried to talk and catch up, in between Euan's shouting, jumping and dancing. Mum and Grandma popped in for a cuppa, then when they'd gone Paul and I ate tea and watched Bubba Ho Tep. Very funky and original film. I really enjoyed it.