Chaos reigns at the Manor.
Apparently tomorrow is First Communion Day and Puppychild has been roped into it.
In a moment of extreme rashness I offered the place here for an outdoor party, and am now wondering what the hell came over me. There are times when I am too fucking nice for my own good.
At the moment I am waiting for a Bouncy Castle to arrive and to be erected on the lawn. This is very worrying because if Herself takes to the gin tonight there will be trouble. Herself, gin and bouncy castles are a lethal mix as I discovered once before. It took a bottle of whiskey to convince the owner of the castle that the size ten boot prints on the roof in fact belonged to an oversized child.
Personally I intend to arrive at the church, sneak around the back for a couple of quiet pipefulls during the ceremony and then retire home to the back bedroom, whereupon I shall lock the door while madness ensues all around. Woe betide anyone who disturbs me as I shall not be in the mood for anything other than peace and tranquillity. At this stage, they can rip the place asunder as far as I am concerned, and they more than likely will.
What I badly need is a holiday.