Unenchanted August

Looks like I've had fun this month. Guess we didn't take photos of the rubbish bits. The dodgy phone line. The rain. Madame's poorly tummy. My ripped paw. More rain. Various bits of gloom and bad news.

So the sun did shine. We went visiting. Trips to Ayrshire and Fife. Madame did lots of shopping. More wool. *scream*

Wait! Sorry. Apparently we have learn to call it "yarn". Because it's not all wool. Oh, no ... *glazes over. falls off bed*

I do apologise. She has joined Ravelry. Stop her and ask her all about knitting cotton wash cloths and why bamboo feels lovely but is a nightmare to knit. Please. Give a bear a night off.

Maybe I should pray to the divine Alan Measles. He looks like he could do with some of the yarn mountain for a few repairs. But he does have his own golden throne. If the Church of Alan Measles takes off I wonder if they would let me be Pope. Or one of those Arch Bishop chaps. I'd be perfect. I look good in a frock. I can do that falling over and kissing the ground thing. I can speak Latin. "Ecce!" That's your actual Roman, that is - and it means, er, something ... um, er ... I can speak the Latin. Do I have to understand it as well? Life is not fair. We need Measles!

Nearly time to go. Got to get back to work. Going to see if we can get the poorly Madame to eat some soup. She needs to build up her strength for dealing with the Squirrel. BT bloke reckons that Squirrel was to blame for the problems with our old phone line. He's been out there today - Squirrel, not BT bloke - having a go at the new line. He should just be thankful that Madame is still feeling queasy and we can't find a recipe for bin fed squirrel pie.

where was Bear?

Oh, apparently I got it wrong. She goes back to work tomorrow. Yes. I got it wrong. Not her. Hum. And hum again. But she has started to get some of my holiday stuff sorted.

So. Where has Bear been? And who is the mysterious stranger? Is there a prize? Are tiggers really that dangerous? Can Bear suggest some good holiday reading? Did he climb that tree all by himself? And did he need help to get down again? Questions. Questions.

And it's bedtime ...

not big and not clever

Today has been the last day of Her holiday and she told me she was going to sort out some of the photos for me. She did not sort out the photos. She faffed about. She faffed about to music. She faffed about and ate chocolate. She did not sort out the photos. Nothing was achieved and now she'll have to get up early tomorrow and go to work and be grumpy and I'll be back trauma sponging.

Wait. I tell a lie. She did transfer one photo. Oh, yes. It just had to be this one. Didn't it?