Hoovering the stairs in my dressing gown

Particularly frosty this morning. The weather was not much better.
As we left, there were 3 men on ladders working on the outside of the house. Barry the Builder (we couldn't afford Bob) will make it look better for potential purchasers.

Zombie Tag is our standard playground pseudo-violent game, and as before, our zombie group sustained casualties at the bump stop. It's supposed to be time out at the bump stop but not all players respect this. It was a bit foggy and we zombie-soldiered around (guerrillas in the mist) colliding and clouting each other.

After school I was supposed to go to Elizabeth's for play, but Mr Silly failed to arrange it so I had to do jobs as allocated by Bud. Fortunately it was loft work, my favourite. We went through the Xmas pile like a dose of chilli and senna-flavoured salts. All the old tatty tinsel and bent baubles and runkled wrapping paper and so forth got binned or burn-piled, the 3 little trees were brought downstairs and all the shiny acceptable baubles were retained for use. Every year, we bought tinsel and stuff from the cheap shop. Mostly, it's tired and threadbare after Xmas, but we used to keep those little hairy bits for next year. Not any more. We had to hoover again after this job.

The pile of burnboxes is now taller than me, there were 7 (seven) (sieben) binbags, and many age-inappropriate items from their previous life (before I came along, I may never understand their significance) were ditched. It was fun. I left him to do laundry and bins while I drew a storyboard for the war between the Green Ninja Troupe and various evil dragons. Then I even tried and liked Jof's special chocolate-with-nuts-in. Life is good.