A little horse

Love that joke.  

A foal born a week ago up at TallGirl's stables.  (CarbBoy says I should point out that it's not dead.  But you probably guessed that already.)

Hot day.  Little sleep last night (rehearsing in my head a million smart things to say in French at a meeting on Sunday I'm worried about.  Of course when it comes to it I will remember none of the clever words and constructions my 3am brain came up with and just mutter some grammatically implausible inanity before bursting into tears.) Anyway, as I was saying, little sleep meant a lie in listening to the Today Program (so still not sleeping) and a morning bumbling about not achieving very much.

At lunch time I achieved most-embarrassing parent status by showing up to pick TallGirl and pal up with the roof down on the car.  I'm not to do that again apparently.  I might accidentally forget if TallGirl accidentally spends all afternoon playing and forgetting to clean the fish tank again.

CarbBoy elected to swim at a neighbour's house instead of doing his homework or a project for school due on Monday that he has known about for 6 weeks.  I suspect he is going to have a very not fun next few days.  Too hot for gardening (except for soaking the veg garden this morning) so I sat down with the long list of jobs to be done.  With the VAT office knocked off the list (after 15 minutes on hold listening to advice about a completely different government service which had me wondering if I'd called the right number), I decided to forget about being stressed about lists and have a little sit in the garden and read my book.  Even the shade was too hot, but I persevered in the interested of knocking 'acclimatising to hot weather' off my list...

And the foal was super cute this afternoon. 

FaceTime with Mr B tonight saw TallGirl trying to find Juventus on the world map on the wall, a discussion on whether Prussia and Russia are named after the same thing, and where the word 'eau' comes from. 

(We also talked a load of nonsense.)