What a day. I offered to make Sunday dinner, and I did. Aunt Bessie is a godsend for lazy bastards like me. An easy chicken, potatoes etc. etc. and I’m slowly dragging myself back into the good graces of my wife. She really did appreciate the effort, such as it was, even though she still had to clear up the carnage in the kitchen afterwards. The kids on the other hand could not give a shit, I don’t think any one of them had a bite of any of the food (and I do believe that it was still edible after my attention) or even contemplated having a go at it. Phil, the dog, at least ate well.
Jess has discovered telephones, that must sound so old fashioned; I may as well call the radio a wireless or email the telegraph. Ok, try again Tom. Jess has discovered that she can keep in constant contact with friends and cousins via mobiles, landlines and the internet. What she doesn’t understand is that all three impact on everyone else. We lost the landline handset for a few hours today, the wonders of a cordless unit. I remember the old days when you could follow a cable from the wall to a phone every time. It eventually surfaced in Jess's room under a pile of books!! Then a major drama when her mobile ran out of credit, forget the Middle East crisis this was much more of an issue. Finally hysterics when bed time stopped a two hour phone call to her cousin, ‘Oh My God (OMG, honestly the frequency of this phrase warrants capitalisation) Dad I HATE YOU!!!!’
And so to bed, as Ralph from the Simpsons so brilliantly stated:
‘Sleep. That’s where I’m a Viking!’
Love it.
I’m still looking into the source of the blue chicken dreams and have a theory, well not really a theory more of a wild hope that I can explain it. I am hoping that my laptop at work holds the key, will be able to tell more tomorrow.
The numbers from the scrap of paper found yesterday if they are coordinates, and it would be too much of a coincidence if they were not, are right in the middle of Portsmouth Harbour
Night all, more tomorrow.
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