Clean, mess, clean, mess, clean, clean, mess, mess, mess. Do you know what I am talking about??
Sam Kitty has become my alarm clock. Every morning at half seven he comes into my bedroom, pushes his nose against my eyeball and purrs loudly. Well good morning to you too, Sam.
KiKi's new cartoon obsession is Tom and Jerry. Hooray for old school cartoons that would never pass muster today. TNT, guns, slapping, hitting, food fights, nope, it would never see the light of day now.
I need to go buy a new duvet, but I can't be arsed. Making due with multiple blankets and a 6 year old who sleeps with her feet wedged in my back.
Trying to explain to most Brits where I live (other than Brits from this area) is almost impossible...do you know where such and such town is? No. How bout here? No. What about here? Well, I've heard of that place...but no...*head desk* The joys of living in the middle of nowhere.
Potentially involved in big photography project (no, I am not the photographer). Stay tuned.
By the time the World Cup rolls around I will be a footy (soccer for all you Yanks..LOL) expert. I have been watching it a lot lately. I need to pick a team to support. Any suggestions? PS-I am pretty much sure that the media here in England is sabotaging the national teams chances. Every other day one of the members of the squad makes the front page for private matters.
KiKi is re-potty trained in case any of you were wondering. It is lovely.
It has gotten to the point where I am so used to using British sayings that I have a hard time thinking of American ones. I am being assimilated into the collective. Good thing? Bad thing? Or as Ivana Trump would say "It is what it is" (you can thank Celebrity Big Brother for that...)
