I'm honestly still here, and alive, and in one piece. In the past few weeks, I have:

• held more babies than I have ever held before. Admittedly, I'd never held a baby at all until about four months ago. The babies in question were Ben & Lucy's Emily, and then David's nephew Harley. I've decided that other peoples' babies are great because you can ( Read more... )

I be still alive, I promise. It's amazing how infrequently I write on here, now that my occasions for procrastination are few and far between. I've got another one at the moment; I'm supposed to be working on my final project for my creative writing class. I've got absolutely nothing at the moment, and have so far devoted most of this weekend to ( Read more... )

Um, yes, rather a long time since one has written, I imagine. I have started ye olde job, and it is quite just perfect for the purpose. I spend my days riding up and down in lifts, shuffling paper, answering the phone and generally not being particularly stressed by anything much at all. Every so often, we get bored and play ball games in the ( Read more... )

Lo! I return! This one definitely calls for cuts...

I went to Ireland with the boy on what Laura dubbed 'a mini-break', a la Bridget Jones. There was no convertible, just Owain's Renault Clio and several somewhat tense discussions about the speed at which I go over speedbumps and the correct interval of time necessary between turning an indicator on ( Read more... )

Hannah, the arch-overlord of the universe, is making me write an entry. Something has been eating her flour in the kitchen, and our prime suspects are our old ratty friends, new mice, or comedy moose. I don't believe her claims that she found shed antlers in a drawer. Our house is crazy ( Read more... )

I've got that song stuck in my head. I have no idea why.

Yeah, northern fun. I was going to have a little moan about how my family are all driving me mad (which they are) but I can't quite be arsed with that. I'm thinking in an Irish accent, partly because I've just been watching Dara O'Briain and I swear he's the funniest man alive.

There was a ( Read more... )

Sunday evening, in winter. My feet are cold and everyone else has gone to bed, and it's not even 9.30 yet. I am musing upon the weekend, which has involved the joys of Tom-the-Pom, lots of wine, cuddles, ambling around Exeter, pizza and a jaunt to the Firehouse. I have an awful suspicion that I don't want to wait until I'm thirty for us to admit ( Read more... )

Oh, erm, it's cold. I am resisting the urge to hug my laptop, which seems to be the only warm thing in the house. I ought to go to bed, really, but I am watching The Cosby Show, stealing music from Nath and talking to Jamie. Tomorrow heralds the arrival of Tom, with whom I lived in Australia during my gap year. I am unspeakably excited at this ( Read more... )

Oh. Weirdness reigns supreme, and a dark shadow casts itself over our house. Sarah's dad has died. We seem to be floating in an endless state of not knowing what to do. She went home to Cheltenham this morning, inviting us to the funeral as she left. There have been lots of sombre conversations about it, and this peculiar sensation, and then we sit ( Read more... )

Ah have lahnded. Bloody southerners. Actually, I like the south at the moment, mainly because it is away from my pesky mother who has got on my nerves more than sufficiently for one year. Pipe down, I say! Cornwall was quite nice apart from a few random mother-annoyance/argument incidents.
She also managed to invite herself to stay in Exeter and ( Read more... )