Last night we had one of the most fantastic sunsets I've ever seen, better than Jamaica even. The whole sky was on fire. It was so amazing it even scared the crap out of Isobel. She covered up her ears(?!?) and cried.
I hung out my washing this morning before work in hope of some sun, and it drizzled all day. Poo.
We signed our mortgage papers today, I can't wait to start renovating. I suppose I could start clearing stuff out now, but that's the boring bit. Where's the fun in that? I'm just looking forward to hiring a skip and throwing crap in it.
Isobel has been telling the childminder that Daddy doesn't live here anymore, that Mummy hits her(she has a bruise on her head from headbutting her bed in a rage), and that I have a baby in my tummy(thankfully not true). It sounds like an epidode of Jerry Springer. She's also been telling us that the childminder doesn't feed her, which is a blatent fabrication as she eats her out of house and home. She is such a windup merchant. She has also shot up this month, and she looks huge!
Can you believe I still haven't seen or heard from my Dad? It's actually making me feel quite sick. I can't believe that I'm the one that has to arrange for him to come round here. He told us he had a present for us, that he'd call us that week to arrange to come over, and that was 7 weeks ago. I'm sure it's some weird game to him. I'm going to call him tomorrow and end the Mexican stand off. Maybe I'll invite them over for a roast.