Tired and Emotional.

Does anybody else have that Friday feeling today? I don’t know whether it’s because I’m going down the pub this evening to watch Rafa’s Reds in Istanbul or whether I’ve actually managed to clear my in-box for the first time in about 3 weeks.

Off for a business lunch. I doubt they’ll be much talk of tonight’s match - but at least I’ll have something substantial inside me before tonight (eating is not part of the strict timetable that I have had to enforce - which includes William being in bed by 6.15 - to ensure I make the pub in time!).

Must dash!

Doing The Diva’s latest “think of a song” entry, I came across the following link.

I’m not sure what I want to say. I feel I want to say something. I’ll come back to this tomorrow. That’s best, I think.

In the interim, feel free to leave your comments.

Via Evolt Spool a post which they headed “..I felt a great disturbance in the Force… as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror…”

This is not a Star Wars spoiler - if anything it is far more scary (spice).

Arty five minutes.

Postsecret gives people the opportunity to tell a secret without having to disclose their identity. There are some complete gems on here. Some very dark, some very light. Just scroll down and take your pick. My favourite is towards the bottom and says “I make everyone believe that I like to be different but really I just don’t know how to fit in”. That just about sums it up.

Via Nate, a piece of conceptual art in the shape of a pub crawl. Happening this Friday in Cardiff.

Mother comes home on Thursday. Doctors, nurses, PAMs are all delighted with her progress - and lets be fair she’s clogging up a bed on a trauma ward, when she has a husband and daughter who can look after her, which will cost the tax payer nothing (until husband ends up with another coronary trying to move her!). Anywho…

The plaster is still on from ankle to groin - and will be for at least four - but more likely 8 weeks. The really good news is they don’t seem to want to take her back down for more surgery, which we were advised was one of the options a week ago.

Selfish as this is going to sound, I don’t mind doing some extra work at my parents, if that means not having to go to the hospital every night - which is a round trip (plus visiting) of around 3 hours. It’s also costing me £2.10 a day for parking, which soon mounts up, and I dread to think how much for little incidentals (coffee, tea, food, magazines, etc). Father has been in twice some days, which, when he doesn’t use his OAP bus ticket (a round trip of two hours without the visit), costs him at least £4.20. He even pays for parking with his disabled badge - which is, I think, scandalous. How people on limited money manage is beyond me.

Just have to organise crutches, adaptions to the bathroom, seats and sticks now (all before Thursday mind) and then we’re on the road to recovery. Little by little - one step at a time and all that..!!

And if you look to the left, that would be where the nuclear waste was once stored.

I mean, seriously, would you buy a house on a reclaimed Atomic Weapons Establishment? The trouble is, there are plenty of people out there who will. Well, if having three-headed children doesn’t make you think twice, you may want to consider that the tax-man (whose offices are literally a stones throw away - turn right at the Safeway store) will have an eagle-eyed view into your property - so no hiding any of those extravagant purchases!

There is something to afternoons, alone, in the office, punctuated with the strains of Mr Stephen Patrick Morrissey, full blast. I think dancing in an “air-gladioli” stylee may have been taking things a little far, but at least the door to my office is shut. Thank God the boss didn’t see that - he already thinks I’m quite mad, I’m sure.

Anyway, have a good weekend all.

Mike’s post reminded me that it’s almost that time of year again.

All I can hope is that this finishes before it starts.

Today’s bobbles were flowers (see previous post if confused).