Under the bonnet

Here's the underneath of a moth. (I'm not even going to try and fool you that it just flew over me and I was super quick, obviously it was asleep on the outside of a glass door. Mind I did have to lie on the floor to get this shot - so it's not like I didn't try or anything. Anyway, I'm sure the dead fly stain top left would have given away the origins of this photo even if the door frame at the bottom hadn't.

Busy day. What else do you expect? Mr B had a very well earned lie in while I dealt with a poorly Conor. He felt like his temperature was off the scale, and he was soaked with sweat, but half an hour lying calmly on top of his duvet, chatting to me (I have to admit I was trying to doze a bit while he chatted on) seemed to cool him down a bit. He threw up his breakfast, of course, but that happens with very little provocation so isn't the worry it might be with another child.

Katherine had a French lesson this morning, so after dropping her off I headed into town for a nice chat with the bread man (and buying bread, of course), then a slightly frustrating chat with the lady in the Tour de France shop (she's one of those who looks in utter bemusement at my attempts to speak French and makes no effort at all to try and understand what I might be asking. Annoying shop even without the annoying lady: they sell t-shirts and wrist bands. Only in adult sizes. I could double their income with one simple piece of advice: parents buy more stuff for their kids than for themselves, and there are a lot of parents about).

Then more stuff at the MBH. Today, in deference to it being Sunday and our neighbours being entitled to one day a week without our generator blaring, was a planning day - marking the position of straps for the uneven walls that are going to be framed out in wood. We also hacked all the loose and not so loose plaster off a beam (much mess on my lovely new floor).

The kids had another French lesson with the young woman at the pony stables, and that was the day. Well, apart from Mr B just coming in to announce two more sparrow chicks dead on the terrace. Not sure what's going on with that nest.

EDIT: Mr B asked me to clarify something from the other day. He says the wood he carried in the convertible was actually 4.5 metres long, not whatever nonsense I said. You know how important length can be, so I apologise for the error.