oh damn, it's hot!

I just, in all my wimpy glory, restrung a small trampoline in the burning midday sun. I am now scorched and sweaty and trembly-tingly fingered and thinking of the various strong armed men who could, or should be at my disposal for such tasks.

But no. Now I'll go do the mother-thing as well and turn on the oven, on this hot hot day, and slave over the stove to do the birthday cake. And rice crispie squares. And should I do mini strawberry cupcakes too? Everyone loves them...

You know what? I think tomorrow morning I will leave Axel to prize apart the children, and cut the hedge in the lane and tidy up and make things pretty as only he can (or rather, as I can't)  do and fuck off to the shopping centre to pick up my shoesies. Shoesies!