Bank Holiday Sunday. Ace.

Obviously spent most of it catching up, but just the thought of not having to go to work tomorrow kept me cheerful all day. I don't hate work that much, but you'll know what I mean.
Early start with the boy wonder (6:35 am) and pottered about with him, playing with his new engine (Emily. She's a GIRL!) and half watching MOTD. Tackled the fish; still leaking a bit, but he seemed to welcome the attention. Boy wonder spent the time sitting on the top of the kitchen units, staring at the fish in its new measuring jug home and shouting "Fish! Wow!" incessantly.

Number 1 son called from Newton Harcourt, having been on an all-nighter round his mate's farmhouse ranch thing. When I got there the youngest threw balls for Tod the dog while I noticed the absence of adults and the presence of at least one female yoof. Remind myself of recent revelation, that son's allergy to sticking plaster might = latex allergy and therefore condom allergy. A conversation needs to had, I feel, otherwise we could be dealing with some unwanted swelling. Then again...

Half an hour in the garden, very much enjoying my buzzing mobile. There's an ELC sandpit at the top, which has become a pond containing water so fetid the frogs have laid the spawn next to it rather than in it. I worked on that.
Shopping party returned after a while. I watched in horror from the other side of the kitchen while a bottle of wine slid out of a bag, perform a slow somersault and the exploded on the tiles, cracking one of the. Memo to self: don't murder anyone in the kitchen, the cleaning up is a real bind.

Youngest tried to drive his new sit-on little red tractor, picked up from Scope yesterday for a fiver, aided by Beth and Lucy who returned from their sleepover about noon.
Picked up eldest from Leicestershire LTA (where he'd been dropped earlier by shopping party) and worked in garden further. I'd heard that gardening is the new rock and roll, but clearly I'd been misled.

It's not that we even have any flowers - it's all low maintenance evergreen - so it was mostly sweeping up, sawing a few branches and picking up fragments of flowerpot. If you've ever spent a warm summer evening in your local infirmary while your daughter bled all over the lino on account of having a bit of flowerpot in her wrist (and I know I have) then you don't mind jobs like that.
I managed to transfer a bit of holiday footage to video while tractor boy was asleep. (Posted this as a work in progress while I talked on the phone to my sister [in tears; wedding imminent] and my dad [maudlin; wedding imminent])
When the attraction of gardening waned (let's be honest, at least an hour after the attraction of gardening)we had a walk round the local area, escaping his n hers carland suburbia and noticing in passing that a lake has appeared at the bottom of our road. Chanced upon a game of cricket on the green, yoof of my acquaintance, and a huge smashed shot over mid on hung in the air for ages, the crowd hushed, before finally dropping into my ever-dependable safe pair of hands, bouncing off my thumb and rolling into a bush. The shame.

Made it to the local but tractor boy refused to stay in so had to drink outside in the cold. Rest of the evening in minor maintenance tasks, such as tagging some blogs and tidying the garage (so called because it used to be a garage) and speaking to parent / sister.

It sounds dull enough, don't you think. But I'm OK with it.
I'm off to pour myself a drink and admire some library poetry.

Drinking: whisky
Listening to: Sweet Suburbia, The Skids
(Neither of the above is true.Yet.)