Local colour

One of the grand things about blip is registering events in the calendar, so you can remember when they are due: like when my big orange lilies come out. And noting little details of life around you that you might forget about in years to come. Our new house has a bus stop right outside the door, and this rose is poking out of our front drive onto the bus stop. Along with lots of brambles. I'll be interested to see whether anyone picks the roses (or the blackberries when they come ripe). Anyway, here's the prettiest yellow rose preserved so I don't forget it when it's gone.

Mr B braved Ikea alone today to feed my self-assembly furniture addiction (and to get the big things we wanted to get the other day but which wouldn't fit in the car with three other folk taking up all the space). I tackled the washing mountain, and figured I might as well hammer the spike for the rotary drier into the lawn while I was on. Sounded dead easy on the instructions.... 45 minutes of hammering and one wrecked piece of protective hammering timber later... it was done. I think I have that white finger thing that guys who work with pneumatic drills get. I'm sure it'll pass.

Aside from that, I'd been a bit lax with nagging Katherine about brushing her hair, and it had become so serious that I thought only scissors would solve it. But four applications of conditioner got through most of it... An exhausting day, somehow.

(And if you're following the home schooling theme - the kids had no interest at all today, but were playing without fighting pretty much all day - so I left them to it. I'm sure part of the job of being teacher is knowing when to stand back and let them do their own thing....)