6 again!

Poor Mum gets stung by a wasp at work. It is half asleep and sitting on the bannister of the main stair well and Mum plonks her hand down on it. She now has a hugely swollen middle finger smeared in a variety of narcotics with names like "Wasp-Eze". It is very painful she says and relates a story of heading for the pharmacy to buy the cream like a grown-up when she was actually 6 inside and just wanted the nice lady to give her a hug and a lollipop. It's April and the weekend, clear blue skies and warm sunshine, all be it with that creeping NE breeze which gets us here in North Kent, rattling in over Nagden Marshes with nothing in its way from the North Sea, so that as soon as the sun goes down the chill comes and the humans retreat indoors for their supper of Cajun ribs. Much to Dad's alarm, the 2CV will not start this morning, giving a few pathetic churns before running out of battery. Somewhere in the re-assembly by Llew or the hand over to Dad, someone has knocked the radio on and although the radio has long since lost its ability to reproduce music (or any nice sound at all in fact), it does a good line in static hiss and can flatten a car battery from fully charged in a week of non-use. It is an olde Amstrad with a cassette player of a type which was probably wholly appropriate in 1986 when the car was new, but is now probably just an e-Bay museum piece. Or was. After flattening Dad's battery twice; once today and once, if we remember correctly when Em-J Silverwood was fiddling with it, it has now been exorcised from the car and is now sitting in the wheelie bin. Have a good weekend Deefski