Father's Day

Rubbish day. I couldn't visit my Dad today because I'm so stupidly busy. Didn't manage to make Alfee's Father's Day special either. Hopeless wife and daughter at the moment.

AlfeeTee left for Glasto at 7am this morning. We drove him to the station, waved him off, walked back to the car and didn't get very far. He had the keys in his pocket. He realised after two stops, came back and we said goodbye again. We won't see him for a couple of weeks.

Our festival inserts weren't included in the local paper today as they were supposed to be. Next week will be okay but where are they? 11,000 flyers missing in action.

Then another four festival meeting, this one to work out how to deal with the super duper big TV screen that we now know won't show Wimbledon, how to pay for the power supply we can't afford (over £2k to draw power from 4 street lamps!) and how to cope with the lack of volunteers that is making this a 7 day a week unpaid job for T and I.

It all conspired to make me late cooking supper. So redemption in the form of pizza. But then Elsa burnt herself taking garlic bread out of the oven because the oven glove slipped. She's asleep now but it hurts.

Roll on tomorrow.



Picture credit: wall art in Brick Lane coffee shop