Triffid widdow

I’m not really into disaster movies so while Jason watches the Day of the Triffids I am sidling round the front room keeping my back to the tv. There isn’t a lot of dialogue, most of the sound is snarl, scream, crunch, snarl etc. Doesn’t sound much fun to me, can we watch Midsomer Murders? Also when I catch a glimpse of the screen it seems a tiny bit low budget with lots of dry ice concealing the edges of the sets. The triffids look like big aubergines on top of a cactus.

Amazing how I can review a programme without even watching it isn’t it. Must be the blood of centuries of Jewish mothers flowing through my veins. I saw a good joke in the papers the other day, it was: ‘Four middle aged Jewish ladies were sitting in a restaurant. The maitre d’ came over and asked ‘Is anything alright?’. It’s ok you don’t have to laugh out loud.

Btw I am starting the campaign to make Dougray Scott the next Bond, so rugged, so deliciously Scottish.

Rose and I had a lovely day despite being barricaded inside by the hideously cold depressing and vile wet weather. We went out on a mercy dash for extra hand wash, and me and Rose both got very cold feet. We spent the day making things with green paint and glitter. The one made from a wrapping paper tube looks like a Triffid actually. Then we had tuna and avocado sandwiches for lunch, oh yes the food of the gods. We made scones after nap time. Rose hit upon a scheme for eating maximum chocolate spread – gnaw off spread with front teeth and ask for more to be applied, continue until the scone is basically just a thin shell and discarded. Then it was a slide down to dinner time (noodles a la peas and pesto) followed by daddy coming home after his jaunt to the pictures to do bath and bed.


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