I'm sitting here at the kitchen table threatening the children. It's homework time and they're just not in the mood. Hard to blame them. And for some reason they're not quite believing me when I say I will sell them if they don't shush.
And why this luxury, this blogging in the middle of the day?
Because the baby is in jail.
Mr Oub, as he does, got a notion in his head. And decisive, as I dithered, he set up the monstrously huge playpen (aka Babyjail) in our already crowded kitchen. I was all bitter, get it out of my beautiful kitchen like. But then we were all overcome... a bit like when you live beside a motorway and have gotten used to the traffic noise, but then you move and it's all quiet. It was odd. Strange. Baby Oub likes her cage. She shut up for once in her short screechy life. Whatever the bars are saying to her, she likes what she hears. We don't know quite what to do with ourselves. Other than prepare for a possible incarcerated future for our youngest child.
|I'm an innocent mon!|
So, I sat down to do a bit o' blogging. Horror of horrors, I am discovering that I have misplaced the funny. This post is just not going to get any more rib tickling than this. I dunno. Maybe it is possible to run out of your sense of humour - I may be dour forever mour. Not a great loss to the world of comedy perhaps.
But in the spirit of making people laugh, and it being my birthday week, here are a few old IDs I found recently as Mr Oub and I tried to clean out the study (once again). The study is our little landfill. Feck it in and shut the door. Methane is produced there. Hmm. Okay, maybe that was the kids.
Anyway, Here are some classics.
Mr Oub likes this one. He was getting a little lechy. I was not best pleased. I was all jealous of my previous self and like no, you will not find yourself a time machine and go back and cheat on me with my younger self. Or something...
|I remember that beige cardigan. Crazy student me...|
And this one is a classic. My journalism class had oh so wisely decided to go out on the batter the night before our pictures were to be taken. I look so rough on this id you could probably use it as sandpaper.
And here, for no reason at all, is a picture of a trio of swans I made at pottery class last night. Quite.