Anne Dickens | The Day After Yesterday

I think that if you choose to have kids, you have got to have a stratum of masochism in you. And by this, I am assuming that masochism equates to relinquishing hedonism ........ but I might be wrong. Masochism is one of those things where it is difficult to define it's opposite. A bit like a bacon sandwich.

When I say having a kid means relinquishing hedonism, it is because you have to give up nearly all your free time into looking after them. So imagine how crazy you would have to be, to take not just one, but two sprogs to a theme park! Actually, ignore the masochism bit (this is getting confusing) because theme parks are the dogs danglies.

Yep, not long ago, Steve and I decided (my idea) to take Izzy and one of her bessie chums (whom I shall call Sprog B), for a fun-filled day down south. We were headed to Paulton's Park ....... somewhere that had received rave reviews because of its ability to cater for kids of all ages (which kind of included me).

When the day in question arrived, we jumped into my bling machine, programmed the sat nav and hit the highway. But it soon became apparent that I hadn't actually properly checked where Paulton's Park was ..... and about half an hour into the journey, Steve pointed at the Sat Nav screen and exclaimed loudly, "bloody hell, it is next to Southampton!"

Which is a long way from Oxfordshire, I can tell you (about 2 hours).

But what was a gal to do? I had psyched up the sprogs, we were half an hour into the journey ..... I had no option but to press on. And press-on we did .... and I am bloody glad we did because it was a top banana day out.

And because I am kinder to children than Mother Theresa, but in a more flashy way, I have got some photographs for you. 



Both of the gals were quite gregarious even though they were only 6, so it was only a matter of time before they were hollering for more adrenalin.











I have to say that Paulton's Park was a bloody brilliant day out. If you have kids aged between 2-13, there is tons of stuff for them all. [Note to Paulton's Park - do I get a discount?]

So what are you up to this sunshiney weekend my dahlink?

Here is a picture that I posted on there today.

It is my mutt eating cow shit off a mole-hill.


I spent all day fretting, and rueing the fact that my dog likes eating excrement. It's just weird, and I don't think that even Listerine is gonna help with his breath (not that I could make him gargle, mind).

In fact the only thing that cheered me up was a comment from my Canadian pal, Brahm who said .......... "Ours only have access to rabbit shit, which they gobble up like candy."

Dogs are most definitely NOT the kings amongst animals. 

You may remember that a couple of weeks ago, I helped my cousin Jane move house (again). Well, last week I drove up to visit her in her new abode in Anstey, Leicestershire.

She persuaded me by promising that; "we'll only do fun stuff and you won't have to lift a single sofa."

"You're not belming me are you?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nope, truly. We will not be doing any work," she assured me.

Marvellous. And with that in mind, I lobbed some luggage into my jalopy, shoehorned Naughty George into the boot (or 'trunk' if you are foreign), and set the Sat-Nav for Anstey. All systems were go.


Finally I arrived at her house in Leicestershire.

We greeted each other, and I quickly ascertained that even though she had lived there for three whole weeks, she had no plans to move. Abso-bloody-lutely amazing given that if I had to assign her a nickname it would be STM - 'super-transient-moose'.

"I thought we could spend the day visiting Leicester," she said when I asked her what the plan was.

"Leicester?" I asked incredulously, "what is that famous for, except cheese?"

"It's got good shops .... ?" she proffered hesitantly.

"You are taking me bloody shopping aren't you?" I said suspiciously, looking at her sideways (N.B. I don't like shopping unless the object has an engine).

"It's only shopping if you buy something," she pointed out, "otherwise it'll be browsing."

"You git, that's bloody semantics," I admonished, before resignedly adding, "ok, let's go to Leicester. To be fair I haven't been there before."

Jane grinned at me before bounding to the car.

And because I am kinder than 'Mild Green Fairy Liquid', I have got some pictures for you.

Without further ado ......................... please let me introduce ......................... Leicester! (a city I had never wanted to visit, but which ended up performing remarkably well in the entertainment stakes).

















After lunch, we left the market and ambled over to the Moroccan part of Leicester. Basically the Moroccan quarter constitutes a whole street devoted to eastern fayre. It was like being transported abroad.







All I know is that we had to walk all the way back to the car with my eyes red and swollen. I looked like a bloomin' boxer. You will be happy to learn that it did eventually dye (ha ha!) down a bit, and looked ok I suppose.

So that was my day out in Leicester - a place that performed way better than it's reputation. In fact I would definitely go there again.

Have you been there? And what the blazes are you up to this weekend dahlink?

I developed a new hobby last week. After accidentally stumbling across my Taxidermy gone wrong blog post again, I decided that comedy animals were the way forward.

In particular, comedy dogs. So I spent ages amusing myself by collecting funny dog pictures that I found on the internet. I could amuse myself indefinitely with virtually no external stimuli I could.

And because I am like Mother Theresa, except that my eyebrows are more coiffed, I have included some of my favourite pictures for you ........ enjoy.