I sneaked out of bed

.. past the sleeping baby. Is this the morning she's going to let me get up by myself? So far, so good. I don't mind when she gets up with me, but it's luxury to go to the loo on my own, without having to defend the loo roll from being thrown into a sink full of water.

My body is a bit weary. Yesterday I cleaned out our workroom, which used to be called our bikeroom, but hasn't housed bikes now for over a year. It's the front part of the garage and has become a bit of a glory hole. There's a car full of rubbish to recycle today now, and we can get to the workbench to build wind turbines and so on. Maybe!

I seem to spend a lot of my time clearing and sorting heaps of stuff these days. In the field, in the house and elsewhere. Good job I enjoy it, once I've got started. I find things we'd forgotten we had, and produce more of that increasingly rare commodity: space.

My early morning brain

- which is the only one I can safely rely on for blogging - is nowadays being hijacked instead by our toddling baby, and her love for books. Even as I try to write this, I've had this



thrust in my lap, and I'm obliged to intersperse my typing with roars "like a tiger" and agreements that it is, indeed, an apple. ("App!") And glasses. ("Gass!") And a hat. ("Hat!") And then I have to perform Tinkywinky's hat song, and open and close my mouth like a fish when she repeatedly points to the picture of a fish, so amazed is she that I'll do that. Hmm. I'm pretty amazed about that, myself, come to think of it.

But if you were wondering about my lack of blogging, that's why. I seem to think I didn't even start blogging until the end of 2004 when Lyddie was nearly 2 and a half and I'm starting to realise why. I'd wanted to do it earlier, but didn't have the brain space - too busy making a mouth like a fish, no doubt.