As days go today is a good day. So why the blooming heck do I seem to be leaking from most holes on my face and my voice all weird? Well our little Sicilian Stray Baxter got adopted by his Furever family. See it’s a good day.

Even Harry is breaking his tradition and comforting me. I’ve even been told I can play Mine craft if I want. The boy can be so generous. He gets it from his Dad.

It’s that bad and yet completely irrational. The family he’s gone to seem absolutely adorable and I know he’s gone to good home. So why can’t I turn off the snot flow?

Harry is now reminiscing over all the other times I’ve blubbed. It would appear I do it a lot. In fact that question has just been put to me as to why I cry so much?

Being a woman/mum/wife is truly a gift. I mean come on, I can deal with pain at quite a high level (partial Achilles tendon tear that I tried to exercise through being a prime example) so why on earth at that delicate time of the month do I cry at the slightest thing? I even cried at the Heathrow Airport Christmas ad earlier.

To work our way through the grief I’ve offered to take the boys shopping for a Christmas tree and decorations. Make the place all festive. (1 month early, that will get Daddy well annoyed)

Anyway moving on, we’re still in Sicily or at least we are for the next couple of weeks. Life is ok (honestly it is, just ignore the snot on the screen)

Dave stayed on the Windsurf board at the weekend which is an achievement. I think the threat of numerous jellyfish in the water should have been given much earlier. Think of the saving.

The weather has turned cold. We are now in thick jumpers and coats. I’m pretty sure though if any Brits want to come visit you will think we’re crazy. 15° in November is NOT cold…. It flipping is you know!

We’ve taken the boys to dinner with all Dave’s work colleagues and achieved a record 5 minutes before they needed an electrical device. Benjamin tucked into his Italian Fries which made us very proud parents indeed whilst Harry even waved at someone. Dave and I ate everything despite it being “not in the plan” Bleeping plan my arse..

As an explanation, the plan referred to being the one by the Body Coach. The same exercise and eating plan that broke my tendon in the first place. I’ll give you bloody plan. And spinach and Feta. Sorry I seemed to switch hormones there. (God bless Mother Nature)

We’ve all had hair cuts. Dave’s went well as did Benjamin’s. Harry’s on the other hand not so much. She seems to have cut more skin off his neck than hair from his head. I really must practice my Italian because I’m sure I asked for her to shave his head. Still he survived his experience with Sweeny Todd but next time we’ll be a bit more selective over which Barber he goes to. I had my hair cut 2 inches. That went well. Although her waving her hand over the top of my head saying “We’ll deal with this next time”, referring to my ever increasing amount of grey hair, put a dampner on things. Then when I tried to book a colour the flipping woman had no clue what I was talking about. Clearly she has practised the wrong Eeengleesh.

So that’s about it for now. I’m sure Dave will want to have a rant about my recent hormonal imbalance along with the Christmas decorations. Oh crickey and he’s bound to tell you how much I made him spend at the Black Friday, Saturday and Sunday sales. Eeek, he’s got more than enough ammunition to not be complaining about writers block this week.

Ciao for now my peeps.


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