I appear

to have a telescope growing out of my head.

Possibly a football growing in my abdomen.

I am less bothered about the telescope - at least it doesn't cause discomfort and sometimes it lets me see things that are pretty and sparkly and millions of years old.

The BBC producer got in touch again today for a photo of me with the telescope. Sadly, by the time I had got the email and then subsequently focussed on what I should be doing - looking after Jimbo who was sent home ill again today - the light had dropped and the image had to be high ISO. It was cold, blowing a gale and a small part of me felt very sad that the scope was being briefly unleashed but for no appropriate purpose.

I have sent this and another, and begged that if they don't need it tomorrow, that I can do another one tomorrow evening that doesn't make me look like a podgy girl with a funny head growth.

Anyway, to more important things...like checking on James. It's so unlike him to be ill and this has been going on, on and off, since last week. To make it worse, he will not take any sort of medicine, whether it be liquid or tablet format. I even contemplated mushing a paracetamol up into some icecream tonight...he'd notice it probably and it was a moot point as he didn't want anything to eat. So he has sat in a tepid bath to cool down and is now sleeping upstairs. Poor thing - he is very annoyed at being ill and at having completely scuppered his 100% attendance record. I have tried to explain that "that's life" but I know that it wasn't an argument he took any notice of.

Just like his mother then, eh?!