7 days to go

Just humming that like a mantra, 7 days to go, 7 days to go, till the blasted bucket head comes off. It's hot, she's crabby, she wants to scratch but she can't, poor darling. This is worse than counting down how many days left till I finished my upgrading to manager at work.

Did I mention prior to Christmas that step son number 1 had a motor bike accident? Not sure if I did or not. A lady did a U-turn in front of him coming out of a park, he saw her and slowed and tried to take evasive action and then she turned back again in front of him going into another park and he ran right into her. Broke his arm, quite badly so that the bones had to be stretched back out and a plate put in. It's not looking good at the moment, the plaster has now come off but they feel his arm isn't healing as it should, so they're considering over the next few weeks as to whether to re-break the arm to re-set it again. That sounds hideously painful whichever way you look at it.

So not one for photos at the best of times, Mike did manage to take a (very bad) shot from his mobile phone camera, which of course I had to scrapbook. Naturally. Using the fabulous Reasons kit by creashens.

Credits here.

So it looks as if it's going to be another sleepless night, its way way too hot at the moment, not liking this weather one bit. Night.