7375/19895
Was shooting some b-ball with my daughter this morning, when a couple of kids who were up to no good, started making trouble in the neighbourhood. Well a small girl tripped over the skateboard ramp and cried. Phoebe, it turns out, is pretty sporty. Neither of her parents are. We’e barely able to walk down the street without bumping into something, but she is bold and committed and coordinated. She got a basketball for her birthday and we went to the rec to shoot some hoops and though I didn’t attempt to take the ball off her too often, I did play pretty much my hardest and even though I had a height advantage (a rarity and let’s face it, not for long) she still got more baskets than me. Which is impressive as the hoops were high!
We then played football with Ernie and a game of tag where it was basically impossible to catch either of them, so I didn’t mind too much that I hadn’t managed a run today. I got a good work out.
I hadn’t slept well again and this was a long old day, but I managed to somehow keep things moving. Phoebe wanted to make something with her new pottery kit, though she found it a bit frustrating, so I basically crafted some clay into a rough approximation of a bowl with a lid. At the same time I was keeping Ernie occupied making some chocolate chip cookies. I managed to keep the cookie dough out of the clay and the clay out of the cookies, so that was a win.
The cookies were much too sweet. I have fallen back down a sugar hole again, though a couple of chocolate chips are the only chocolate I have eaten since Christmas. I am considering trying to eschew sugar for a couple of weeks, but that might be a leap too far and I fear the collapse that might follow. The sugar might be all that is keeping me alive. But it will also kill me eventually. Oh sugar, you whorish mistress.
Catie had been packing for the holiday and so when she took over the kids I went to lie down and had an unsettled evening sleep, which revived me enough that I could help with bedtime and gave me enough rest that I then couldn’t get to sleep until after midnight and so the cycle of exhaustion will continue, with the added complication of being on holiday. I might not make it through this week alive. Definitely not if. I choose this week to give up sugar.
If I give up sugar what pleasure will be left me? Caffeine? Is that all? I mean they’ll never stop me wanking. They’ll have to prise my penis from my cold dead hands. And to be fair, they probably won’t bother. I’ll be like that plaster cast from Pompeii.
I did manage to book another RHLSTP guest, though still have a gap for the getting ever more imminent 20th February gig. But on February 27th, Al Murray will be returning to the theatre. Last time he was on he refused to leave the stage and I needed to catch a train, so it was the only RHLSTP that I didn’t get to finish (not sure we put out his extended waffling though). We’ll talk history and Spitting Image for sure. It’s been a little while since I’ve seen him, so it should be fun. The other guest is Kiell Smith-Bynoe so it’s well worth your attendance.
Tickets here - still some cheaper ones available.
