Wanda

Up too early with too much to think about. Some sawing in the garden calmed my mind, and gave way to a fairly normal Sunday.

TallGirl is full of talk of ants (as pets) which is hard for me to accept as I spend most of the summer every year doing all I can to keep ants out of the house. She seems very definite though, and it has resulted in her learning about BTUs, so I've said if she produces a properly costed proposal, with assurances on likely escapees and feeding while we're away, then we'll consider it. (And, yes, I do now a little bit wish we'd said yes to a pony...)

The venison haunch roll planned for dinner was less tidy than might have been hoped, as it turned out to be a collection of pieces of haunch, rather than one bit. Dinner was salvaged (mainly thanks to crowd-pleasers like Yorkshires and roast potatoes) and we finally got to watch last night's movie, A Fish Called Wanda. In case anyone was in any doubt, that's not a suitable movie for a 12 year old (though it is on the milder side of my choices lately...)

As you can see miracle-fish is still going strong, and we even think he's regrowing his tail.