Sleeping to Three Decimal Places

Long ago and far away, I went on a school youth-hostelling trip to North Wales.

In the dormitories with narrow bunk beds and army issue blankets, seven 13th-year-old girls lay down to toss and turn and wake up freezing cold, in a tangle of thin cotton and coarse grey wool.

One 13th-year-old Duck woke up warm, refreshed and still tucked in perfectly smooth, hospital-cornered, matron-would-be-proud comfort.

'You pathetic little sandwich!' - my school friend exclaimed, rubbing the Tommy Nod from her eyes.

I can't help it! I wake up in exactly the same spot I went to sleep, covers intact, pillows barely dented. I always have.

I personally consider this a plus. I might put it on my CV - 'Makes excellent bedfellow, no duvet snatching or elbows in the back.'

I could stick it in the personals 'Guinness-drinking, blonde, United fan, colour-blind, GSOH, will not put cold feet on you in the night'. Who wouldn't be tempted?

I could advertise to share a burial plot on the same virtues.

JP slumbers with exactly the same mathematical precision. He gets into bed, removes his glasses, shuts his eyes, falls immediately to sleep* and doesn't stir until morning.

Unlike Tiddler, captured here in his nest last week. If you look really closely, you might just make out the garish, tangerine pyjamas behind the cement mixer. Bless.




*Seriously. You say 'close your eyes and go to sleep now' - and he takes it absolutely literally.

Superhero

We've all asked ourselves at some point which superhero we would prefer to be - given the opportunity. Masks, capes, tights, powers and so on. So many choices.

The Little Ducks get to try out for the roles in multiple, miniature, dressing up costumes.

How reassuring to find somewhere, where we can follow a logical and considered process to reveal the true answer.

Oh, and in case you're wondering about me. Tada

Things You Encounter When You Haven't Got Your Gun #3

This week has been National Vegetarian Week. So today, in the town square, there were entertainers for the Saturday shoppers, and helpful leaflets.

The problem is, the entertainers were a trio of Native American Indians, dressed in furs and leather, complete with headdresses made of fox pelts - heads, tails, legs - the full corpse experience. Quite brilliant Council planning.

And all this on the back of the outing of Guinness, Snickers and Kitkats (the UK's bestselling chocolate bar) among others as being unsuitable for vegetarians, thanks to the swim bladders of fish in the former and rennet in the latter.

Still, all the more for me then, so it's not all bad news.

Cheers!

Pen!

I have a new pen.

:)

It is not a Zippo

:(

It does not make fire

:(

But it does this




:)

Que Sera Sera

Whatever will be, will be
I'm not going to Wemberley
Oh Poo!
:(

Love Is...

JP has his first wobbly tooth. At nearly 7 and after nightly checks, he is very excited. The piggybanks of most of his friends have grown fat with contributions from the Tooth Fairy for at least a year now, and he has been a little anxious about the amount of interest he is losing.

I'm trying to get a feel for the going rate of return for small teeth. Consensus seems to be around the £1 mark, although Tiddler, inevitably has other ideas.

I should have know something was afoot when he slid into our bed, very early, smiling. Thinking that my morning routine was going to include a cuddle, I opened my arms to embrace him and smiled widely...

Whereupon he punched me, quite determinedly in the mouth.

'Ot Ar Ou Oing?' I exclaimed, clutching my face in pain.

'I'm trying to break your teeth so you'll get £1.50.'

Walking in a Fergie Wonderland

Click the play button in the bottom left corner to relive the welcome at the Bridge.

Wish You Were Here

As we didn't get up to much at Easter apart from this, we decided to take the Little Ducks away for a long weekend, with the school closed for elections and the Bank Holiday.

Mrs. Duck Senior had recently provided the Little Ducks with their own rucksacks, which they had immediately packed for our summer holiday in Devon.*

These have been standing the hall for a few weeks now. Before leaving, and despite their reassurances that they had everything they needed, I thought it might be wise to check the contents.

JP:
5 pairs of pants
5 pairs of socks
5 clean tee shirts
2 pairs of shorts
2 pairs of trousers
1 clean vest
One football kit including shinnies
Night time teddy
2 Books
Binoculars
Magnifying glass

Tiddler:
7 tee shirts (not all clean)
75 cars.

With fond memories (rose-tinted on reflection) of seaside caravan holidays from my childhood and a belief that Hi De Hi was definitely fiction, we ventured to a popular resort site near Blackpool. After ascertaining that there was Sky TV and Guinness in the bar, so that I didn't miss Saturday's derby match*, we signed up for children's entertainment, assorted adventure activities and Splashzone access.

The weather was fantastic, the Guinness was excellent, albeit cold, and the kids loved all the character costumes, talent and magic shows.

BUT I JUST COULDN'T SLEEP.

Line-dancing wood pigeons on the roof, creaks and groans from every corner of the caravan, lack of double glazing with its additional soundproofing properties and late night revellers with ponytail facelifts, singing The Mavericks at the tops of their voices and spitting!

I kid you not. Spitters were everywhere - all ages and sexes as far as I could tell, unless it was a local custom. I think fooballers have lot to answer for here.

Still. Home now. Guard of honour at the Bridge tonight. Normal guinness on tap.


* Still on daily countdown - 91 days
**Can't not mention it, can I? Champions again. More tomorrow.