is that the weekend list is then in the work notebook. Not Helpful.

However, in a sort of post-rugby haze (one cracked rib plus one elastoplast - and last week's concussion showing up in a reindeer suit, which does make me wonder whether he has recovered properly or no).

• Dinner
• Laundry
• Supermarket
• Brownie Admin
• De-mould bathroom
• Get Christmas decorations down from attic, place Advent Candle in holder
• Rugby Sunday (as well as Saturday)
• Morris Sunday
• Doc Martens
• Work out N's Christmas Present  
• Measure N's feet for socks
• Upload pictures from wedding (it was lovely. Sweet, beautiful, simple and they looked so happy).
• Email S re DC
• Get G's address
• Christmas Cards
• Wrap Christmas Presents

xxxx

Sir's fair isle is now 97cm round. His favourite sweater is 93cm round - but, heck, the fair isle is thicker yarn, and he's put on a *little* bit of weight recently, so, I think this will do the trick. Hurrah. The problem is that quite a bit of knitting needs to be done before it's actually long enough to measure round without distorting the measurements.

You want a photo?

Hopefully that'll work. I'm feeling lazy with the mobile phone camera in an effort to get something out here for y'all.

Last night's Brownies was frenetically brilliant - and exhausting. I had a gin and tonic, and an awful lot of food, afterwards, and crashed into bed somewhere around 11pm. Snowy Owl had done this awesome shadow puppet activity. They made puppets and then put on a show. A lot of mermaids were attacked by dragons, various fish floated about the place, and there was an underwater bunny rabbit, who wasn't very good at running under water (yes, that was the journalist's daughter who came out with that one. She has a knack for this sort of thing).

I also have a list.

• Bank accounts
• Rugby (two matches, one after the other - I hope we don't get delayed at the bank, but KO isn't until 1pm)
• Buy Nancy's 18th Birthday present
• Nancy's party
• Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition at the National History Museum with added disused tube station spotting
• More knitting - hopefully finish G's hat so I can move onto N's socks for travel knitting
• Sort out Dad's sock heels (afterthought heel has apparently been chewed by mice, so no big fuss to sort out, as long as I can locate the yarn).
• Laundry (including sheets)
• Start writing Christmas cards and cocooning presents
• Various guiding related emails (what to do next week, Division Stuff)
• Pay cash in for DivC present
• Wish it were pay day a little sooner - I did most of my Christmas Shopping this month
• Read gas meter and electricity meter (that took some remembering)

OK. If I don't shower now, I will not be at the bank in half an hour.

xxx

Sneeze. Snuffle. Wheeze. Humph.

Better today. This NaBloPoMo thing is getting very behind itself,
though. I seem to be ridiculously busy and running around like the
proverbial fly.

Buzzz

xxx

Didn't want yesterday's asthma attack either. Certainly could have done without the First Aider type person not bothering to help and just continuing to witter on about diskspace.  That was weird: I don't think she knew what to do....

So now, I am working from home, feeling bunged up, with an emergent sore throat and rather sorry for myself.  It's cold outside (temperature dropped from about 16 degrees to about 8 degrees in the last two days, and I finally caved and put the heating on), I have no appetite and LOTS of tea.

I might get behind the concept of a biscuit in a bit. And, at least I have the opportunity to work from home and, hopefully, avoid bronchitis again.

xxxx

Actually. The whole day did. Suckage during the day. Suckage that whereas last year it cost £20 to get my asthma covered on travel insurance, this year it's £70 (because, you know, American healthcare is expensive...three times more expensive than last year, apparently). Then FIM refused to create a proper mailbox in Exchange 2007 (Legacy mailbox, fine...), then I had to wave goodbye to N, and just felt entirely woebegone.

Which is silly, 'cos I get to see him at work tomorrow.

Then I got a flu vaccination. The GP was super speedy, I was in and out within 5 minutes. Plus there was none of this "stay put in case you have an allergic reaction" malarkey. I've had enough flu vaccinations in the past 20 years that I'm not going to start reacting now.

Then I went up to one Brownie pack to get them to sign our outgoing Div Comm's cards, then down to another Brownies and Guides (with a strategic taxi en route), dropping off someone else's Camping Qualification book while I was at it (well, you know, I was round the corner).

After that, I went to Waitrose (be still my beating heart), stocked up on decent gluten-free pasta and rice milk (neither of which Morrison's seems to deal with), and some apples, and bread for N so he doesn't eat mine, and accidentally bought a rather nice candle while I was at it.

And, it was all totally exhausting, and there were still emails to be dealt with on my return home, and I really hope I'm not about to get a cold, as I went on the Victoria line this morning. It was a bit necessary. I locked myself out, and only realised this when I remembered I'd not used my inhaler. "No matter," thinks I, "Jo's boyfriend is still in." So I rang the doorbell. And again.  And waited a bit. And then again. Then I leaned on it.  Then I paused a bit. Then I decided that the way forward was to perform a violent fantasia to the tune of 'Come to the cookhouse door, boys!" and he finally deigned to come down. Men!

xxxx

Goodness, but it is hidjously misty outside. Horribly, hidjously
misty. Not quite a fog, but the visibility is worsening all the time.
It makes me worry that I'm heading into smog territory, and then
breathing gets, well, interesting. Challenging. Not the basic facility
that one would usually expect.

I had a lovely weekend. Mostly, it
was the company.

This morning, less of a good start. I managed to
depart without taking my inhaler *and* without my keys, which were
hanging, in unlikely manner, on the hook in the kitchen. No, I didn't
look there. I never put them there. Thirty seconds down the road I
realise my error. And go back. And ring the doorbell, since Jo's
boyfriend is still in. And ring it again. And again. And then lean on
it. Then ring it again. Then lose all patience and start playing "come
to the cookhouse door boys" on it. He finally makes it down the stairs
- he thought I was the postman (really? And, even so, shouldn't you be
opening the door, or at least sticking your head out a window to
ascertain who is playing this fortissimo fantasia with an F#?). Grrr.
Am tempted to revoke his key permissions.

xxx

At the crucial moment, I was remembering. Work actually stopped at 11am for two minutes, a distinct improvement on last year, when someone was blethering on through it. It helped that it was fire alarm day, and thus they felt able to re-schedule the fire alarm test for 11 am and 11.02am.

Meanwhile, I've been out to watch the rapper dancing, and out to rugby. And I've had N visiting post-NY Marathon. He's in remarkably good shape for someone who ran 26 miles a week ago, and who is also jetlagged. And he bought me something beautiful in a little green box. I don't want to take it off (it's a heart shaped pendant, decorated with red enamel. it looks a little like candy canes, but it supposed to resemble the gondoliers' poles in Venice).

xxx

In Flanders Fields

by John McCrae, May 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Drive by posting from the top of a courtesy bus in Reading on the way to
Microsoft's campus for the second day running. Despite oversleeping by 50
mins, I am in Reading a full half hour before I managed yesterday. Score.
Let's hope I don't fall asleep mid afternoon today.

Xxx

To make up for missing yesterday.  I went to visit Great Ormond St Hospital Scouts and Guides today.  This meant that I achieved a childhood ambition - as I'd read about the unit in the Ladybird Book of Brownies (or Guides, I forget which).

It's pretty cool. Everyone gets a neckerchief (OK, we only had 4 children, two of whom spoke either Greek or Roumanian, we didn't quite figure it out), and there's loads of adults. We started the meeting by hoisting the flag - there was an actual, proper union flag, which is very scouty, and we spent the evening learning about poppy day, playing a game involving not stepping on the landmines, and colouring in poppy pictures and making cards to send to the troops in Afghanistan. One of the girls decided my badge tab was beautiful, and the very small boy (heightwise, he looked about 3 or 4 years old, but he's supposed to be at least 6 to be able to join in) decided he fancied me. And had himself carried, and kissed me, and then, when we were walking down the corridor (I wasn't carrying him down the corridor - I dealt with stairs: stairs could have been VERY slow otherwise, as he was quite the stubborn one), licked my hand in the manner of a slightly enthusiastic puppydog (yes, I have since washed my hands). The coolest bit was the squished doodlebug bomb, which had apparently hit the Scout Hut in Holloway way back when. The metal was all compacted in on itself, and you could see bits of wiring.

The other excitement is that the lovey @Mauvely has sent me sock yarn and a Girl Scout handbook.  Happiness.

xxx