Okay I'm holding my hands up and admitting to being the worst blogger, in the world, ever. Not only do I rarely (if ever) add any whizzy, little gismos, let alone do all the things that good bloggers are meant to do, but as of late, I don't seem to be even able to get round to writing anything. I'd like to come up with some really good excuses but the only thing I can come up with is that I'm utterly crap. And disorganised. And rather busy.
So what is it that keeps me from the keyboard? Well to give you, dear readers, an idea, I thought I would share a typical days events with you. I'm on my own at the moment as Himself is elsewhere. Allegedly he is installing kitchens, but as this is in a ski resort, I suspect he is more likely to be whizzing down a slope or propping up a bar, surrounded by lovelies. I'm here with the kids. Bitter, moi? Mais non....
By 7.30 this morning, I'd lit the fires, fed the kids, walked the dogs and let the ducks out. One of the ducks is in solitary at the moment as she keeps trying to rape and kill another smaller female. Only I could end up with ducks that could easily get a part on Prisoner Cell Block H. So until I find someone who is prepared to dispatch 'Fucky Ducky' - (they didn't cover murdering lesbian ducks at finishing school) - she has to be locked up away from the others overnight.
When I got outside to hang the first load of the day out, I noticed the electric fencing flapping in the wind. Never a good sign. Further investigation revealed that the local deer population had been playing 'French skipping', in and out of the lower two strands and that various posts were down. The pony had worked out an escape route and had a wicked glint in her eye as she knew she was about two steps and five minutes from freedom. And the neighbour's juicy, green lawn.
So I had to move the nags into the next field and repair the fencing - all before breakfast. And of course, this never happens, apart from when Himself isn't here. Grrr. Then the internet wouldn't work. Again. This happens on a regular basis but I usually just yell for technical support to come and it is sorted within minutes. As technical support is up a mountain, I was without any connection for a few hours until I could get hold of him. Double Grrr. Then I went to get the next load of washing out of the machine and it seems to have decided that it no longer wishes to operate the spin part of the cycle. Triple Grrr. Then just as I was about to leave for the airport to collect someone, I get a text to say that the flight is delayed. Instead of a civilised afternoon spin out, I will now need to load the car with assorted children this evening (who will all be horrible as they will be tired and hungry) and hit motorway rush hour traffic. And the car will probably decide to break down too.
So whilst I fully intend to keep you up to speed with the next installment of 'Life in a Landaise Hovel', if it takes me a while to put finger to keyboard, please make allowances. I will probably be busy strangling a duck with some electric fencing. Or tethering a pony in the middle of the garden with a modem cable. Or just drowning my sorrows.