Verily, it is thusly

So. In summary:

The good
My daughter continues to be quite the most remarkable human being I have ever come across. She is making a great new noise which is virtually impossible to spell but goes something like 'Waaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhoouu uuuuuuuuuummmmmmaaaaaaahhhhhhhoouuuuuu.’ She can sustain it for ages so must have great big lungs, although from the outside her chest cavity appears to be of a normal size.

I can only think of one bad thing and one ugly thing (see below).

Work is not tooooo noxious; an unusual turn of event particularly given it being shit-missed-deadlines-by-days-for-no-good-reason time of the month. My ‘boss’ is on holiday, but I don’t think that has anything to do with it. Much. At all. Oh, okay.

Autumn is almost upon us. I love the autumn, it's much better than that summer nonsense we have to put up with. Specifically, I love days like last Wednesday which, if you recall, was an exemplary example of autumnal fabulousness. Crisp and fresh. Bright sun, sharp shadows. My carbon footprint is tiny tiny, you know. Stop global warming.

I made a spectacular bean curry yesterday and there’s enough left over to feed the entire North Korean army so I’m in for an easy time making the dinner tonight. I’m in charge of the cooking in my house, you see. Scary but true.

It’s Friday. I think that one’s clear, yes?

The bad
My Camper Wabis have finally broken. It's awful - I love them so. The rubber outer shoe is cracked and letting in water. Cricklewood Braodway water too. Shudder. I made the mistake of pulling the orange liner out yesterday and, not to put too fine a point on it, it stank to high heaven of damp foliage. Exactly the way the organic recycling box smelt when I forgot to put it out and it went all warm. The coco foot bed, or whatever is, is almost totally ripped away from the rest of the sock. It was also caked in all sorts of detritus from Gladstone Park and environs. I wondered why they were so uncomfortable. Although I am wearing them as I write this. Poverty ditactes, poor me. Also, please note I have had them long enough to wear them out completely so I’m not one of those evil Queens -park-dwelling-fashion-victim-media-whore-croc-wearing-fly-by-nights.

The ugly
I had a small debate with Cheesy Q which turned a little (okay, a lot) toxic about why I suddenly have a blog given that ‘blogging is so ovah, moron’. Apparently, 'because I want one’ is not an adequate reason and I should have a different, better reason like ‘because I want to be famous like all those other bloggers that were on the radio’ or ‘because I have an ego the size of a planet’. What? The Qs argument fell apart on grounds of logic and basic humanity later in the exchange and I showed no mercy. Let that be a lesson to all and sundry. I shall do as I like. So there.

Right, enough random drivel. Come back for the next installment when I will tell about you all about my encounter with the suicidal giant dragonfly at the top of St Paul Avenue, London, NW2. Heady stuff.

Au revoir.