Backwards In High Heels

This House Must Be Wicked...

...as there certainly isn't much rest.

Since I last blogged poor Mum has remained writhing in pain and is now onto a cocktail of drugs to rival *insert any rehab rebounding popstar of choice*

After a fortnight of being under 'upstairs arrest' the latest concoction of painkillers has helped her to at least face the stairs albeit with colourful and unladylike language.

I remain nurse/cat warden and haven't lost a patient...yet.

Thankfully I have found time to speak with my bestest matey who has returned to our shores for good.

Yes we've been on the phone and we have had a good moan* about everything. We take our training as grumpy old women very seriously. God its good to have her back in this hemisphere!

*such moans will make it to the blog when time allows. So if you like a good old grump now and then do pop by ;o)

Anti-Social

Poor Mum is still racked in pain and bearly able to move. I am tired. This doesn't bode well for my social skills. If there's a knock at the door or the phone goes I tend to look a bit like this:

Interbreeding

At Christmas I got a pair of novelty slippers. They look like cows, are huge and moo if you press on the right spot.

Last night, I found Funny Bunny my cat being, ahem, overly friendly with the slippers. He is neutered but obviously the beauty of bovine slippers overrides the lack of testicles.

Tonight I am sat in my study. My slippers and Funny Bunny are in my bedroom. I've just heard the slippers moo. Funny Bunny obviously pressed the right spot.

It really is something when your footwear gets more loving than you.