I am just licking out the mixing bowl when I think, 'uh-oh, diet!' Is this why I'm failing to lose weight? All these little 'well, it's so small, it can't possibly count' bits. No, but really how many Syns can there be in a mouthful of cake mixture? Don't answer that; I don't want to know.
It's sad to think that, since the outbreak of salmonella back in the Currie days, children all over the country have been deprived of the basic childhood pleasure of licking the mixing bowl when mum has finished.
I used to try to fly when I was little. I would jump off the top of my slide and flap my arms like crazy. I'm often tempted even now, when I'm on 'my place' on the cliffs, to leap into space. I usually make do with stretching out my arms and spinning but who knows? One day maybe you'll see my photo in the papers. 'Woman flies!'
Maybe one day I'll be a good drummer too.
Right after circuits last night we had the first of three drum workshops to prepare for the Easter morning celebration meeting. We started with a name game. It involved a rhythm – stamp, slap your leg and click your fingers twice. On the first click say your own name, on the second say someone else’s. That person then takes over and does the same. I was embarrassingly bad. I couldn't even get the stamp slap bit right, let alone click and speak at the same time.
And now I need to go out shopping. Which means driving Betty.
Younger son is home and driving Betty. Younger son has legs twice the length of mine. All the seat adjusting has upset Betty and the driver's seat is now loose. Accelerate too quickly and you're likely to go backwards thingy over wotsit, which isn't a good position to be in if you're driving.
More later assuming I haven't crashed.