Helloooooo...did you miss me?

It's a busy time at the moment, to be sure...but HECK CHRISSIE...6 days before you blog again? SIX DAYS!!!? What the...?

Well...busy, busy weekend, followed by a busy Monday when I was just about getting round to blogging when...then...at lunchtime...Pooter went "BANG!" Literally. It made THAT ACTUAL noise. My big black wheely chair screeched back so fast from the desk, its little castors didn't know what had hit it. And then there was the unmistakable smell of burning. Burning, 'bang!' and Pooter are not a good mix.

So. No Pooter for the rest of Monday. I felt like my leg had been cut off. Didn't what to do with myself. So I did what any self-respecting SAHM who happens to WAH as well...I made an apple pie with Daughter. Pastry and everyfink. Danny thought he'd come home to the Waltons. Monday is usually our Family Night too, so we had a little lesson teaching Celyn a song they sing at Church that she doesn't know very well, and then we sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (with Celyn accompanying us on the guitar).

(I will at this juncture just interrupt my Pooter story and point out that my daughter is no Mozart child progedy. So don't alert the media. She strummed her little guitar (proper one but little) with open strings. Sounded cack. But hey, we love her, so it was MARVELLOUS!)

And then for the game Danny had picked up a few conkers during the day and we threaded them on string and taught Celyn how to play conkers. Now. Here's another little side-track. I have been married for 7 years last month. In that 7 years Danny and I have played any number of games of all varieties. Absolute Balderdash. Monopoly. Scene It. Articulate. Silly word games whilst just vegging. Chess. Noughts and crosses. Hangman. Test the Nation. Gin Rummy. Boggle. The Oscars. Scrabble. You name it, we've played it. And of all those many many games, I can count on one hand the amount of times I have beaten him. Literally about 4 times. It's pretty flippin' annoying I can tell you (me being Miss Competitive and all). It drives me NUTS. He is an IRRITANT. So...Monday night...he plays Celyn and he wins (no big surprise there). Then he plays me. And wins.

I can't even win a game of blummin' conkers. I'm so depressed.

So I drowned my Pooter/Sore Loser sorrows by eating apple pie. With squirty cream (because Danny thinks squirty cream is actually how it comes out of cows. It's a boy thing). And Danny carefully placed his 'Twoer' champion conker with love and affection on the windowsill, ready for its next match.

Yesterday we visited a well known shop for all things Pooter and they said that, indeed, Pooter had popped its clogs. But the memory was all retrievable (oh joy, oh bliss...all those documents...all those photos...) but we'd need to buy a new Pooter.

So Pooter 2 has been born. He's black. He's got a plasma screen. He's got a funky green light on his base unit (I had a date like that once...).

And THAT is why I have not blogged for six whole days.

I shall blog later with some pictures I've been wanting to upload though. Who Do You Think You Are is on now. Must See TV.