allotment fatigue...

Arlo's refusal to stay in bed any later than 6.10am is wearing a bit thin on the household. He's a grumpy toad, I'm a grumpy toad, Bry's a grumpy toad.

Today the 3 of us spiralled around each other getting right on each other's nerves and trying very, very, VERY hard to live by the new rule of 'NO MORE SHOUTING' that is stuck on a big sign on our door in the hall.

We decided to take it to the rest of the world and meandered down to the allotment where we dug stuff, sowed stuff, threw stuff, set fire to stuff. All in all, it was a pretty good way to get rid of the crabbies and try to do something productive at the same time.

Arlo's favourite bit was setting up the fire and sitting around it saying 'ahh, isn't this wuvely? Nice to get a cosy by the fire'.

My favourite bit was right now. Boy in bed, husband looming over me telling me it's time for tea.

Steak and chips tonight. Get in!