SPRING HAS SPRUNG

THE BOY WITH THE BUBBLE GUN.

This year Father Christmas brought us, two bad backs, one nasty case of sciatica,

one ricked neck, one case of food poisoning,

two bad coughs, a high temperature

and a partridge in a pear tree.

Ho Ho Ho.

Despite this we celebrated Christmas in all the traditional ways,

waking way too early with two over excited if peaky children,

opening mountains of presents before 8 am and spending the whole day clearing up, eating my our own body weights in turkey, ham and chocolate

and drinking more than should be allowed for one woman with extreme sleep deprivation.

In fact there was a point mid Christmas morning post presents

and pre drinkies with friends that found me locked in the bathroom,

soaking in the tub with a large glass of port.

Still if you can't do it at Christmas, when can you?

As an antidote to all the over indulgence and madness of Christmas day

the blonde bombshell and I took his new bubble gun for a walk in the local park on Boxing day

with some surprising results.

Hope your Christmas was a wonderful and restful time.

Nora xx

and if you were wondering, yes I did steal the title for this post from Tom McRae.