Phew, it's hard work playing all day. I can see why small children need to go to bed early.
I have achieved much since yesterday, but the Lovely Son is beginning to send ruder messages in response to my pathetic No understand! emails: "Go now, Luke, and use the flamin' Force!" And I do, and slowly it begins to make sense. So many Mac users can't be wrong when they say it's easy.
This Photo Booth thing is a laugh, or would be if it wasn't so brutal; perhaps I need some friends to squash in front of it with, just like we did in our teens. On my own, I have a rabbit-in-headlights look as I sit in front of the screen. Millie came to have a look, and I took our picture. You can see that we still have the stylish cardboard boxes in the fireplace to prevent another chimney exploration incident, although I suspect it wouldn't be Scooter trying that one again, but his naughty big sister.
And now that I've spent the roof money on a big toy, guess who turned up today? Yes, Billy the Roofer, over his big job on a country house and a bout of swine flu. That's how you get tradesmen to come back, Lizzie, you blow the budget on sweets....