"You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart. You’re heading for a breakdown, better pull yourself apart. " - John Cooper Clarke

Boys can’t catch.

Kenny has been and gone. He arrived looking fit and well and left looking like a wounded soldier. Naturally, he’s blaming me, but for once it wasn’t my fault at all. It’s all very simple: I threw a ball at Kenny. Kenny tried to catch it. Kenny got his knees in a twist, hit a marble table and then crashed on the patio.

Ouch.

No broken bones, no broken glasses (how did he manage that?) – but a rather broken head which was bandaged up rather expertly by my mate Roger. This happened, thankfully, after Kenny had taken the Twat and I out for dinner because had it happened before I think I may well have been left at home. And to think that idiotic accidents only happen when slightly intoxicated. I believe that I have proved myself wrong again and just hope, really hope, that Kenny pays us another visit as the long talks in the garden were great.

At least this visit took my mind off things for a while, but I am back to hoping to hear from 5 other job applications that I have submitted as well as the endless search for a job.

The children should have come home yesterday, but the girls are with their boyfriends and Todd never replied to my message so presumably he is with his girlfriend. He’ll turn up eventually – he’s a bit like a stray dog in that sense; you can’t get rid of the sod.

Hermie is sleeping indoors at night now but takes so long to get out of his wellie that I ended up tipping him out the other day and this morning I resorted to taking his wellie outside and putting it in his pen. Hermie wasted no time coming out then.

Aha! Somebody is at the front door.

It can only be Todd.

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