Molly, Rory and Agnes

We went back to the farm on Friday for Pete's birthday, and we got to see the new sheepdog puppy. Originally christened Spot, we have all decided that's waaay to boring, so currently she's called Molly.

Molly and Sam the kitten have a love/hate relationship.

I failed to get a shot of the well-aimed paw swipe from Sam.

Cute one of Sam hiding in the roses.

Molly terrorising the inmates. Poor doggies.

And little sleeping Rory! He was a little angel (misleading), he was passed around about nine people and apart from a little grizzle about being moved he slept and looked angelic for everyone. I expect that meant he was up half the night for his poor parents. It's now the official time he was supposed to be born, but he's actually just over a month old.

Clare cuddling Rory:

And, on Sunday night, Clare went off to her adventures looking like Agnes from Labyrinth:

Can you spot the difference? Only by lack of broadswords I think.

Pride 07

I know, this was two weeks ago, but you just have to see this new police car:






Yes, that is indeed a Lotus. Anyone want to sign up for The Force suddenly?

I followed these dudes into the park, and was v impressed by the chap's a) height, b) corset and c) inch long purple feather false eyelashes. They most kindly let me take their pic:


Paul V and pal:



Me with my face painted! Finally! No one ever lets me get my face painted. Paul didn't care. Also note the hippy balloons the police were giving out. They were also giving out pink whistles with Kent-Gay-Police.co.uk logos on them.

I did like Paul's T shirt with Maggie Thatcher in stockings and suspenders.

Anyway, it was v hot, and as predicted there were lots of burnt gay bottoms by the end of the day. (Flashing flesh is not an issue at these events.) But a gay old time was had by all and it was extremely entertaining, good fun, and very friendly. Recommended for anyone if you're down in Brighton at the right time of year. Just be careful which shops you stray into... We were just window shopping and ended up in the burley man's BDSM rubber implement shop. Mon dieu. I don't even want to know what they do with some of that stuff. It looks distinctly painful.

Garden delights

Look how well our tubs are doing! Two tubs, two bean plants, two tomato plants, one squash plant, and a satellite dish.

These are runner beans Red Rum:


This is a butternut squash in embryonic stages (it's only just over an inch long):




This is cherry tomato Sungold which only goes orange, not red, and is sweet and tasty (and more beans and the satellite dish):

I think we're helped because the plants are on a balcony so we don't get the slugs, and we get more sun. And of course the tubs are full of well rotted farmyard manure. Arhhhhh.

Lists and legumes

Just a question before we start - does anyone else get that thing when you're dozing and having this very very long and involved Think, and thinking some really good thoughts, and then you are roused from the doze and cannot remember a single thing you have thunk? Although it's all just a gnat's whisker away from your memory? What's with that?

Anyway, our bean vines and our tomato plant are looking amazing. We've had seven beans off the bean vine (one seven different days), and it's draping very prettily over the satelite dish at the moment. However there are suddenly lots of baby beans on it so perhaps after the weekend we might actually get a full serving from it! How exciting! There are also loads of clusters of tomatoes. They are the little cherry tomatoes Sungold. We will have to make chutney or something at this rate.

It all goes to prove the wonders of a lot of good sheepshit. *:)

So the bloke's best buddy got me pissed the other weekend and we had a long and involved conversation about what we look for in a partner. (The bloke was driving and therefore sober, and I expect was getting rather concerned about what I might say, at drunken volume, in a pub full of his mates.) Best Buddy got me to confess that not so long ago I wrote a list of all the things that I wanted from a man, and worse, got me to promise to send it to him. I think it was more an effort on my part to make him think more about what he wanted from a girl, other than she's breathing and not swearing every other word. Such high standards. Whereas I had a list of 30 criteria. He was intrigued.

So, the next day, with a hangover, the list was duly sent. Best Buddy sent back an email starting OH MY GOD!! I hope all girls don't think like that or I'm ****ed! Hee hee. Bloke, at this point, was also dying of curiosity, wanting to know how he measured up. But also perhaps a little cross about it. He's right though, it can be viewed a bit nastily to have a tick-list for a future potential partner.

Best Buddy (with permission - well done) sent the list on. Bloke read it. Bloke's mum read it, and raised an eyebrow. (Yikes!!) Bloke, thank Christ, was not cross. Bloke gets loads of extra points.

He already scored 28/30 anyway. *:)