Love is...

...a fatball for two.

I always loathed those 'love is...' cartoons. Smug cutsie nonsense. Anyway, no Valentines loveydoviness around here (save in the garden). Coming out of school the following conversation with TallGirl unwound:

SooB: So, any Valentines cards then?
TG: No, they don't seem to do them for each other. But everyone was making them for their parents.
SooB: Oh lovely! Did you make me one?
TG: No. I drew a horse.
SooB: Ok. Is it for me?
TG: No. It's for me.

So here's a couple of oversharpened blue tits instead. For no other reason than the only other shot is a robin so blurry it looks like a smudge.

Teaching today was nearly missed as I felt so rubbish. Instead I took the easy option and played them a talking book one of TallGirl's friends had loaned me. There was much acting up from the little kids (who have a new girl to add to their numbers) but quite a good session with the bigger ones. After that, off to the Mairie to complain about men with guns/dogs to be told that the hunting season is actually over (really?) but that I should call the President of the local hunting group to chat ... happily a neighbour has volunteered to do that instead. Off then to get the medicine required by last night's discovery and wash everything in the house to try and break the infection cycle. And then straight into school after lunch for a rather chaotic 'lesson' on Adele's Skyfall song where we also covered British coinage through the ages and the most annoying voice to use to say "I lurve you" to a friend. I'm sure their teacher must dread Thursday afternoons.

A productive afternoon, with potatoes now chitting happily in the dining room, broad beans eager to leap into their loo roll tubes and some summer bulbs queued up by the door ready to snuggle down into the front beds tomorrow. When it WILL be sunny and I WILL feel up to doing some digging.