Now we wait.

Until the 21st November, when the results comeout. (and you will please excuse theoccasional burst of PROFANITY on account of I recently cleaned the keyboard - I say recently, it's a bit like the Forth Bridge, I get to the other end and start from the beginning again - and it was the turn of the Space Bar. Now, the thing about my memory, you will recall (I jest. Why the heck would youremember this kind ofcrap. I would, but not you.DAMNthisspace bar!), is that I only remember stuffthat isn't useful. I can remember that Mark Rothko is an early influence on Roy Speltz, and who the Princes in the Tower were, but not howmy friend Davidgotrid of his eczema, or that when I put the newly cleaned space bar back onto the keyboard, it spends ages NOT WORKING. Or only working when I hit it really reallyhard. So, £&(%)"£(&%. And )(£&%.

There.)

In other news, I remembered at 3:15, walking in to the school playground, that I should have picked up four little'uns from Forest School 15 minutes before. Groan. The heinousness of forgetting one's own child palesin comparison with forgetting other people's. Much running, yelling and reckless driving later, allthe sprogs were reunited withtheir parents, having had a ball playing in the forest. And the grownups I had discommoded were hideously forgiving. It was horrible, I tell you, horrible.

Ohand andand, we had a lovely day aboard the SB Hydrogen, celebrating Jeremy's folks' 50th wedding anniversary.

On the left, a bunch of barges, with partygoers. On the right, the congratulations cards for their grandparents. Octopuses. Of course.

And in more picture news, in my sidebar you can see the progress on Sid's jumper. Hilariously, I discovered on starting the second sleeve, that I had misread the pattern, and had knitted the first sleeve 50stitches wide, when it should have been 62. There isn't even any point in unravelling and re-using the wool, as it's in such tiny bits,none of them long enough for abigger sleeve. But asitspure wool, I getto put it in the food recycle. Yay.

And Jeremy wants me to tell you about me drying a pair of Sid's knickers in the microwave, and scorching them past rescuing, but I'm not going to. Too embarrassing.