Time travel

For James Bond and us lesser mortals involves nothing more complicated than driving up the A9. The A9, the most dangerous road in Scotland, goes sort of past us on its way between Perth and Inverness and according to James Bond and M allows you to go back in time. There may be something in that because last week Spring was definitely here. I stood in the Count's bedroom watching the crows bring twigs back to the oak trees for their nests; and delighted in the little clumps of snowdrops scattered about the garden.
But in the last few days it has become decidedly colder, the sky is back to being a steely grey and there is snow forecast for the weekend.
Who knows, maybe next week it will be autumnal again?

Jam huh?

The paint stripping did not work. Apparently the stuff we have - Polycell's Less Mess - is rubbish and we would be better off using jam. Alas I read this after I had applied the second coat.

We are in the midst of potty training at present. Actually no, the less said about that the better only to note that whilst I admire Ig's incredible willpower I do wish she would just po.......

Awe

I am in awe of parents who get on with things despite having young children about the place. How do they do it? Mine seem intent on sabotaging any act of DIY by either creating such a fuss that the piece of work takes three times as long as it should, or simply by trashing another room so the work is never done.
I'm writing this as someone who spent the weekend practically tearing her hair out in frustration at the impossibility of raking up leaves in the garden without tantrums being thrown and a seemingly never ending stream of demands being issued. Still the leaves did get raked, and the veggie patch partially weeded so it was not the utterly fail that it felt.
Today though this got done



This is our bathroom window in the process of being stripped. It was painted closed some time in the past so it's difficult to get air into the bathroom with the result that mould is beginning to darken the room. Hopefully in stripping it the window will be unsealed.

Short but sweet

I am rather weary today. I was up at 1am with Ig; then four hours later The Count was awake following a bad dream and wouldn't go back to sleep until I curled up in bed beside him and told him a tale about cross birds and very naughty piggies (he is utterly obsessed with Angry Birds). I am, I confess, a little nervous that he will have a "bad dream" tonight just so he can hear the next part.