Little Voice

Still no bloody voice. I am so sick of whispering! I'd start using pen and paper, but it's so long since I've used anything other than a computer that my handwriting has gone to the dogs. And blown £500 on the first race, spent the rest of the evening complaining and then gone home in a huff.

Still, does give the rest of the family a chance to get their own back. I swear they've all gone selectively deaf...

New shoes!

Though sadly not mine. They're teeny size 4 1/2, (which might give you a clue as to their new owner), lime green and beautifully flowery. M is going to look suitably hippy dippy for the next couple of months.

She's particularly confused today (as were the checkout operator in Sainsburys, the shop assistant in Clarks, and some poor woman who managed to telephone but had got the wrong number) as I have completely lost my voice. It was a bit of a novelty to start off with - I can't ever remember it happening before - but now it's a real pain in the arse. I didn't realise just how much I talk during the day now that M's around, and all I can do is a rather painful whisper, bracketed by much evil coughing. Which makes reading Meg and Mog 47 times rather a problem. I am Strepsilled up to the nines, but I'm not sure it's making any difference.