crazybrave

So, yeah, it seems that the dog’s incontinence pills are working.

Not much going on here. Little tiny man is six months old on Thursday, and only two weeks until his cast comes off. Hoo-fucking-ray.

Sage is still struggling a little with having an attention grabbing sibling, but I have distracted him momentarily by making my Mum knit them matching veggie hats from Suse’s pattern at Pea Soup. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful but really, Mum, what vegetable is grey? Apart from a mouldy eggplant?

I have been wasting time on Facebook, even thought I don’t really get it. It’s alarmingly cold, and O and I keep on saying “Vy is the top down, it’s focking freezing!” to each other, a habit adopted from a very dear friend who used to watch Schindler’s List so she could perve at Ralph Fiennes. I tried to tell her it was Wrong, but that did not stop her for she is a Bad Womans.

Here we have chicken four ways:

1. About 4 litres of exceedingly flavourful stock

2. Gyoza-style dumplings with water chestnuts, shiitake mushrooms and ginger

3. Little pies with chicken, leek, field mushroom and allspice. Like the dumplings, they used mince made with the new toy.

4. Cute, tiny rooster in the guise of a hen who is yet to feel the surge of joy that comes with hearty early morning crowing and the wrath which consequently flows from the neighbours. (He’s the one in front. Well, he was.)

What are your legs?

We also bought the dog a coat, which looks pretty hilarious, but no pictures yet. Finally, I believe I have discovered my signature cupcake just in time for tomorrow’s preschool fete:

I’m sure someone else has made Iced Vovo cupcakes, but I’m still pretty stoked with myself. The world of cupcakes is quite something else. I had no idea.

She scans the room quickly and leans in to me – not too far, she’s due two days before I am.

“The problem is – I don’t like babies. They’re very demanding and you get nothing back from them.” Her laughter sounds slightly brittle.