OK, OK. In a blatant attempt to ensure that I don’t have consecutive posts extolling Greebo’s virtues, I’m blogging. And so help me I’m gonna blog like I’ve never blogged before… or something like that.

Last week was fun. My throat became a veritable battleground of red and greyness. For quite some time the Reds held most of the strategically important areas (those most visited by passing food and water, and thereby causing greatest discomfort for me), but then the Greys began to take hold, goading the Reds with chants of “We hurt more! We hurt more!”. By the end of the week, though, the blue-bereted peace-keeping forces of penicillin began to reign supreme, and I found myself swallowing without wincing and able to sleep more than an hour at a time.

(In other words, I had tonsilitis, and spent much of the week catching up on missed sleep from the night before. Back at work now, though, with just a lingering sore throat at times.)

Doctors are great, aren’t they? In fact, yes they are. The bit I don’t like about going to see them is all those nasty ill people. Especially those nasty ill people that turn up late for their appointment and still get to see the doctor before me. Grrr. There should be some kind of attendance register. Late for your appointment? Well, tough, you can go to the back of the queue. And people like me who have insanely common ailments should be able to use some kind of ‘fast lane’ thing, like a drive through. “Yes, I’d like a cheeseburger (easy on the gherkins), strawberry milkshake, and a course of penicillin, please… thankyou bye!”

Anyway… I’d best end my lunch break, so I’ll sign off with news that (some) pictures of that trip to Howletts, and of Harry’s 4th birthday are online. (That last set complement Anthony’s set, which are infinitely better, seeing as they were taken with an actual camera, not a phone…)