Home alone

Sharon’s birthday…as well as all the Bee Gees.

When the alarm went off this morning, I jumped and then so did the puppies. Very funny. I think my jump made them jump rather than the alarm.

The farmer has started harvesting the rape. It makes such a difference walking along its edge now it’s gone. I’d better enjoy it because when he ploughs, it’ll be difficult again, no doubt.

Had an email from Bev (dig) yesterday, saying she’s managed to swing another weeks holidays and is volunteering for week 6 at Fishbourne. This time, she says, she’ll have her tent.

Nicole in today. Spent three hours talking. She has already confessed to doing no work all week but instead of getting straight into it, she sits and yaps. Terry not in – no-one has told us and he hasn’t called. He can do what he likes…apparently.

Mirinda rang this morning, all full of flu. That’s what comes from having two winters. She’s going to Budgewoi tomorrow so she may not ring.

Nicole had another telephone fight with Luke this afternoon. She always gets this whiny tone in her voice which must drive him nuts. She also starts speaking really softly which makes it hard for him because he’s partially deaf.

Going to be good tonight and make a shepherd’s pie. It should last till the weekend.

The sun was out again and the heat returned with it. I hope the puppies haven’t knocked their water bowl over again (they hadn’t).

Watched the Aussie’s dominate the velodrome in the Commonwealth Games (both male and female) and Thorpie managed another gold in the swimming. He must have one house to live in and another for all his medals.

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