Good old writer’s block is back with a vengeance. I now write in an evening, after the kids have gone to bed – I used to write during the day, but found that the time to blog and post was eating into the day, and meaning that other things weren’t getting done. Our evenings are generally spent in front of the TV, enjoying those few precious hours of grown up time, and so it seemed more sensible to use some of that time to blog, so I would be more present with the kids during the day. But this also means my brain is more tired, the inspiration is a bit slower to flow.
The last couple of days, since the sad passing of Whiteneck, have also been fairly sedate – Tickles and Bickles escaped their enclosure yesterday and are yet to return. My afternoon was spent getting Bickles back into their part of the garden (and smugly telling our farmer neighbour how very clever I was), and Bickles’ afternoon was spent butting the fence until it was low enough for him to step over (and me telling our farmer neighbour, less smugly, that maybe I wasn’t so clever). Bickles has since been a regular visitor to carry on chomping through some long grass, just not the long grass we’d planned for him to chomp, but still it saves us a job.
We’ve given up attempting to get him back into the enclosure until we can make the fence stronger. Tickles however, the one I thought was cheery and more friendly, has been seen from a distance, but as soon as I waved he turned his back and sauntered off. Not so friendly afterall.
The kids have also discovered a new way to wear themselves out – having races across the yard, the boy on his bike (with stabilisers, which he has taken to like a duck to water) the girl on a scooter – and unable to resist the jollity, J also on a (small) child’s scooter.
I was the equivalent of the flag waving lady setting the race off, but more middle aged and clothed. The races took up most of this afternoon and were, surprisingly, accident free – despite the boy trying to run over his sister, repeatedly, and despite the fact the girl can barely walk without finding something minuscule to fall over (which will always be closely followed by cries of “I hurt my kkkknnnneeeeeeeeeeessss”), and yes, her knees are black and blue, and covered in scuffs.
But other than that, there’s not been a whole lot going on here, and so the words aren’t flowing as they should, and so I think I’ll cut my losses and for today that (as Topsy and Tim would say) is that.