Hello, friends, readers, bloggers.
Home in my messy little house I am again.
I do not walk into an interiorly designed to within an inch of itself life hotel room that has been pristinely cleaned by fairies any more, or arrive downstairs to a full breakfast each morning (though in the interests of honesty, I must admit that the first one was rubbery).
The blog awards were great. I love Cork. It's nicer than Dublin. You heard me. Congratulations, and thanks to Damien for the whole thing. Brilliant idea, having them there, so I got to go on a holiday, en famille, and stay in a hotel surrounded by lots of nice people I know, but not so well I don't like them :)
I was full of wishes to be an eccentric millionaire, and invite all the nice people to come party in my fabulous hotel all the time, but I said that to Devin, this morning, who I met while checking out, and she made the excellent point that it would be like Melrose Place, great at first and then go waaay down in enjoyment levels quite fast. So true. Novelty is everything.
Still, I felt a little like I was in a Cliff Richard film - blue skies, sun, cocktails, and We're All Going On A Blogger Holiday'. The kids LOVED the hotel, with all its lights and fun stuff and mad decor. BUT I hope that next time I might miraculously be able to go as a couple rather than as a family, and sleep in, if nothing else. I forced myself to go up at three last night, but didn't go to sleep til four, Bodhi woke up just after eight, and had two feeds between times. It's time to do something about that, really, especially as he'd stopped looking for milk at night for a while.
So Yawn.
I gave up on the new hurty boots though. Alright, I know, I'm just not built for them. Will have to return 'em in favour of a pair of great boots from FatFace (though I've just seen they're sold out, and for some reason my mouse won't give me the copy menu anymore??), which I saw modelled by a lovely pregnant Caroline last night.
It seems the collective noun for bloggers of the lady variety is teaparty. Apparently the boys keep asking where there event is every year. A better woman than I might have been heard to mention the words piss up and brewery in conjunction with each other.
I met a certain blogger's lovely wife, who I suspect must work as an International Woman of Glamour, so glamorous was she.
I got to see a bride on a bouncy castle, which was quite excellent.
I can't seem to hear so well today, I suspect I have tinnitus from sitting in front of Elly-mar during the awards.
I also have a great photo of five shaven headed, possibly follicularly challenged men sitting together in a huddle, and I was sorry Axel wasn't around to blend in - but I'll have to keep you without a visual as there are some of us who prefer to remain unphotographed... like myself.
I'm looking forward to visiting everyone else's reports of the night. And seeing photos. And hearing all the scandal I missed. But for now, this'll do me. Back to getting lunch and the school run, ah me.
Home in my messy little house I am again.
I do not walk into an interiorly designed to within an inch of itself life hotel room that has been pristinely cleaned by fairies any more, or arrive downstairs to a full breakfast each morning (though in the interests of honesty, I must admit that the first one was rubbery).
The blog awards were great. I love Cork. It's nicer than Dublin. You heard me. Congratulations, and thanks to Damien for the whole thing. Brilliant idea, having them there, so I got to go on a holiday, en famille, and stay in a hotel surrounded by lots of nice people I know, but not so well I don't like them :)
I was full of wishes to be an eccentric millionaire, and invite all the nice people to come party in my fabulous hotel all the time, but I said that to Devin, this morning, who I met while checking out, and she made the excellent point that it would be like Melrose Place, great at first and then go waaay down in enjoyment levels quite fast. So true. Novelty is everything.
Still, I felt a little like I was in a Cliff Richard film - blue skies, sun, cocktails, and We're All Going On A Blogger Holiday'. The kids LOVED the hotel, with all its lights and fun stuff and mad decor. BUT I hope that next time I might miraculously be able to go as a couple rather than as a family, and sleep in, if nothing else. I forced myself to go up at three last night, but didn't go to sleep til four, Bodhi woke up just after eight, and had two feeds between times. It's time to do something about that, really, especially as he'd stopped looking for milk at night for a while.
So Yawn.
I gave up on the new hurty boots though. Alright, I know, I'm just not built for them. Will have to return 'em in favour of a pair of great boots from FatFace (though I've just seen they're sold out, and for some reason my mouse won't give me the copy menu anymore??), which I saw modelled by a lovely pregnant Caroline last night.
It seems the collective noun for bloggers of the lady variety is teaparty. Apparently the boys keep asking where there event is every year. A better woman than I might have been heard to mention the words piss up and brewery in conjunction with each other.
I met a certain blogger's lovely wife, who I suspect must work as an International Woman of Glamour, so glamorous was she.
I got to see a bride on a bouncy castle, which was quite excellent.
I can't seem to hear so well today, I suspect I have tinnitus from sitting in front of Elly-mar during the awards.
I also have a great photo of five shaven headed, possibly follicularly challenged men sitting together in a huddle, and I was sorry Axel wasn't around to blend in - but I'll have to keep you without a visual as there are some of us who prefer to remain unphotographed... like myself.
I'm looking forward to visiting everyone else's reports of the night. And seeing photos. And hearing all the scandal I missed. But for now, this'll do me. Back to getting lunch and the school run, ah me.
