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The snow is gone hooray, hooray. Our snow ladyboy, who was a realistic 5ft, has finally melted. Imogen was most put out when ‘naughty teenagers’ defiled our snowlady. By the simple re-placement of the carrot and the addition of a pair of snowballs ‘she’ became very quickly ‘he’ in a floral hat and fluffy scarf. Actually looked more Mrs Doubtfire than Red Light district being rather well padded.

Woken this morning by nightmare about driving a juggernaut with inadequate brakes that I strongly suspect is a metaphor for my life. Still things are getting a little more under control.

Having been awfully grown up and organised I have dealt with the ghastly financial business of January and now have to face the sad truth that our lovely gecko hunting trip to Sicily will have to wait. Centre parks is as close as we will be getting to tropical/foreign paradise this year. Obviously telling this to the children (particularly Sam) was going to cause upset so I baked chocolate cake to console them and take their minds off it. In hindsight this approach may go someway to explaining the condition called comfort-eating that we hear so much about. Oh dear, more mother inflicted damage.

Have now discovered a new hazard to check for in preparation for going out into the adult world. In addition to skirt-in-pants, sick-on-shoulder etc: Hundreds-and-thousands-in-shoes – very uncomfortable!

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