The Pitter Patter of Little Feet

Some people have mentioned that I haven't been doing a lot of the blogging as of recently. All for good reason: Andrew has a better memory than I do and I find his style quiet amusing for even me to read. However, seeing as it has been mentioned I will write a little of my own musings.





As per the title: Most days I go to a tiny cafe by our house that serves tea and sandwiches and which blessedly has free Wi-Fi. I then spend my morning applying to all the posted auditions on various sights and sending off emails to as many people as possible. If I arrive around ten in the morning I am guaranteed at least one and a half hours of quiet before it begins: the wailing.


Everyday for lunch the swarm of ankle bitters descend on the cafe for a near hour of turmoil. The mothers all gather around, ordering cute little lattes and virtually ignoring any distruction that their crew intail. And the screaming...


Yes, it's all very cute that your little monster can make noises, but why do you let them get louder and louder with their screaming? And when one of them starts the rest join in, attempting to out-do eachother in the lungs department. For those of you in search of birth control or trying to stay abstinate, may I recommend visiting the cafe in between 12:15 and 12:45 daily?





That's my morning.





Now for my dirty little secret.


I am addicted to olives and cheese. Being so close to so many famouse cheesemakers makes it cheap over here. And they really are delicious. So, if I have finished all my chores or come home from work wanting a snack - that is what I have. Seeing as I have tried to stop having junk food and shouldn't waste my money on alcohol, I waste it on cheese instead. it's very addictive I warn you.





I am amazed that Andrew hasn't thought of using this as an idea for a picture post, but here goes. European butts.

Horse butts.

Yes, I know it wasn't what you were expecting, but look how perfectly they stand in a straight line!

Then Andrew and I tried to determine whether this was a male or female simply by looking at it's behind. We were both wrong. It was a eunich.

Need I say more?

Well, as you can see I am not half as amusing as my husband in the writing department, but I will try to make more of an effort in the future -perhaps commenting on something more eloquent than children screaming.