Golden Arch

Not the Arches of MacDo, but the single Golden Arch of Lavaur's rugby ground. Today was, for many reasons, a day I was not fond of. Leaving aside the glorious warm sunny weather - that is.

First, the shops didn't have what I was looking for (you can't buy soil/compost without peat in here - it seems - without buying a few tonnes of topsoil. So I will have to wait until the local tip gets in a new supply of compost. Next week.

Second, a client emailed while I was fruitlessly shopping (though I did buy some lovely local apples, so not entirely fruitless) and asked if I'd proofread/edit a dissertation... today. So I feel unable to turn down paid work at the moment and dutifully raced home to get started. Thanks to the kids pretty much getting their own lunch, I managed to get it submitted one minute before the deadline. Not helped, however, by having to take Conor to basketball (but since he listed it as his top sport, I felt I had to take him).

Once that was all done, and I'd had a quick chat with Conor about not spending the whole lesson running across the gym and sliding along the floor on his knees, it was back to the dinner, shower, bed routine. With added visitors. Katherine complained of an itchy head this morning but I couldn't see anything. But Conor had a few stowaways in his hair... Somehow my nit combs are all in Scotland, so I improvised with Katherine's doll's comb - it being the finest comb I could find in the house. A late night then, of combing, grooming and generally feeling more like our great ape cousins.