I love...

1) My toilet

I didn't realise how damned lovely it was to have the full use of a toilet in one's house until I spent nearly 24 hours with a useless toilet and a bucket to flush with. A new toilet was installed today and oh boy is it nice to have. Sadly it took them rather too many hours with the water off and by the end I was in desperate need of a coffee and a pee. I was not amused by the suggestion that I could in fact solve both requirements in one unpleasant go.


2) Richard Herring

I'm not bonkers. Or I'm no more bonkers than he is anyway, which is *distinctly* unbonkersy. He got an iPhone and he gets it! He does! He realises the love! Read here to see that I am not alone in my belovedness of the bestest ever gadgetry.
He blogged about sleep one time at virtually the exact same moment I did. And he pondered about getting old the day after my birthday. So to show my utmost respect for things that are most definitely not complete coincidence, I'm putting him second to a toilet in a list of meaninglessness.


3) Books

I have read 3 books in a little over a week. Oh yes. Finished completely. Three separate books. All chick lit, all from the charts in Tesco. I've started another 3 but they went the way of most books (into the later pile) on account of needing a brain. No offence to any of the books I did read, but sometimes (the week after exams) you really need to switch off and into easy reading. Three different books, but strangely all came down to the same point: appreciate what you've got.

So I have been. For all that is crap, if I changed anything at all in my past, I might not be here now with two amazing children and I wouldn't change them for any of the things I think I need.

And now I'm going to read a book entitled Bye Bye Balham, which I may read sitting on the toilet just to celebrate this list.

***I know I should be talking about Obama, Tony Hart, Patrick McGoohan and other things that matter, but I'd be a bit "what they said" which makes for unnecessity. So all noted, all thought about, words not forthcoming through no fault of their own.***