Breakfast the One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Sixth

Cinnamon roll and yoghurt drink thingy.

I gobbled my breakfast on the go today, on my way to meet Miss Ferguson, who was painting her bedroom. I helped.

I am full of sneezes at the moment, and bunged-up-ness. Silly old hay fever. I am also full of good intentions not to hit the snooze button on my alarm clock any more.

We shall see that turns out.

Breakfasts Eighty-Two, Three & Four

No 82: Muesli, yoghurt and raspberries.

No 83: Bacon buttie.

No 84: Bacon and egg buttie (nearly forgot to photograph this one...).

More gadding this weekend: this time in Scotland, celebrating a friend's birthday. We had glorious weather, a most excellent bonfire (with marshmallows bien sur) and a good deal of shape-throwing (as my friend Melly Moo likes to call it).

The second bacon buttie of the weekend came at a cost: I managed to burn a nice, long (self-harm-esque) stripe in to my right arm with the frying pan.

Other than dancing like a dervish and burning myself, I've mostly spent the weekend rubbing my eyes. The trees are spawning. The good news is I've finally figured out how to put eye drops in. Up until now I have been incapable of not blinking just before the drops go in. This was particularly problematic the time when I hit myself in the eye with the roller ball of a deodorant (I squeezed the bottle and the roller ball came arcing out, straight into my left eye). I could really have used the relief provided by the drops...  Instead, I spent several days with my eye stinging and watering profusely.