Well, actually it's been more of a rainy weekend, so we didn't get to picnic with the Small Child's BFF and the roof has sprung another leak in the bedroom. We've had several different varieties of rain these last few days, from tropical style rain so dense we can't see the far side of the park, to the current variety, a fine penetrating Irish style drizzle that looks innocuous until you come in 5 minutes later to realise you're soaked to the skin. Even the brush turkeys are looking bedraggled and even more desponded than usual.
The Small Child has been in fine form, the other day she told Himself that "you have a lovely furry chest daddy, just like Hairy Maclary." She's a fine turn of phrase, so she has. At the moment she's playing an game involving herself as Dora, Himself as Swiper the Fox, and one of her friends as Boots. Thankfully for the sanity of all involved, it's not Strawberry Goat.
Out in the wider world, NSW Labor are heading for a pasting in 6 days time. Earth Hour is on the same night. They must be fecking joking if they think I'm going to turn off my TV for an hour during what promises to be a very amusing election night count. Apart from anything else, I could have every light on in our house for a week and not come close to the electricity consumption of some of the monster mansions along Middle Harbour in one night.
Showing posts with label Dora. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dora. Show all posts
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Then Dora went exploring
The Small Child has now decided that her name is Dora, after she went exploring with Himself yesterday, which included a crossing of the Harbour Bridge. Granny raised her eyebrows at this last one, having been reliably informed that the expedition only went as far as South Mona Vale headland. Which it did. The Harbour Bridge in question is a small wooden structure over a little ravine. But it was all very exciting.
She has also, for some reason, decided that she must sleep with all her tights in the bed. Being hampered by the cast, I cannot magic them back into the appropriate drawer when she is asleep. There is also a torch. I discovered the torch when I sprung the Small Child going into our bedroom with it lit. The Good Lord Above only knows where she got it from. But torch is now back with mummy torch on the top shelf of the press, having had a wonderful holiday.
She has also, for some reason, decided that she must sleep with all her tights in the bed. Being hampered by the cast, I cannot magic them back into the appropriate drawer when she is asleep. There is also a torch. I discovered the torch when I sprung the Small Child going into our bedroom with it lit. The Good Lord Above only knows where she got it from. But torch is now back with mummy torch on the top shelf of the press, having had a wonderful holiday.
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