Bit puffed now.

Blogging has gone right out the window for the last week or so. There's a couple of reasons ( on top of the reasons I've already banged on about), the biggest being that old chestnut time, which seems to have been kidnapped by all manner of activities. Things like work and my third move of the year. (Out of my house, into furnished accommodation, out of furnished accommodation into permanent accommodation and being reunited with all my stuff- does that count as three?)It was always going to be like this, and this will be my last move for some considerable time, unless I'm being carried out of here in a coffin.

But if I see another box filled with possessions I own, I shall either go and throw myself under the nearest bus or I will start hurling it out the window like a lolly scramble yelling, 'Get your free stuff here!' (Which I imagine would be about half an hour before the men in white coats arrived who would then ask me to pack a suitcase).

So if you don't mind, I'll just continue with that lie down I talked about a week ago and be back in a minute.

People are so glorious.

I was driving down the road today with SomeonefromWork and I saw an outstanding hat.

Not outstanding in that I wanted it to headhunt it to be a signed up member of my wardrobe, but outstanding in the fact that it was just outstanding. It was in the league of 'Posh Spice's wedding called, they want their hat back.'

'Oooh now that's a hat!' I squealed.

Then I looked a little closer.

'And that's an incredibly short dress.'

And I looked even closer.

'And that's a man.'

'Yeah', said SomeonefromWork, 'it's all in the walk.'

Let me count the ways I love it when assumptions are tossed out the window.

Question.

'She was fucking crackers...she really reminded me of you.'

Should I take this as a compliment?

If you come from a farm and have a father like mine, you will find this funny.

Funnily enough, it was my father who sent this to me.

Mince.

Ohhhhhh how could I resist this pearler from Awkward Family Photo? I think that child is thinking, 'Hee, screw my sister.'

There's a reason I've been blogging a little erractically of late, in fact there's a few.

Yup, the last four weeks have been a touch busy.

They've included:

Embracing so much new technology that my poor simple head has wanted to explode.

Working on a job that has literally hoovered up every waking hour of my life, as well as a few sleeping ones.

Then starting another new job.

Spreading jam on my toast with a wooden spoon.

Renting my house.

Moving cities.

So if someone could pass me a cup of tea and a lie down, I'd really appreciate it.

They have it.

Last night I was off to a barbeque with some friends of mine and their small people, Three and Seven.

I was sitting in the back beside Seven, who was in the middle. She stretched her (very long for being only seven) legs out, put them on the arm rest in the middle of the front seats and lazily said to her father, 'Could you move your arm, cowboy?'

I didn't realise seven year olds could be so impossibly cool.