DISASTER!

There is no greater gift a man can give than his life.

I'm guessing that the same does not apply to scales.

After some investigation it appears that Eleanor Precious kicked our scales brutally and without warrant on Friday. One can only speculate as to why one would be angry with a set of scales, but it has to be weight related. (In fairness, I cannot imagine Ellie having a problem with her weigh, she's floaty light).

Either way, I am glad that I had a pre-bath poo this morning, which took me from 194.4lbs down to 193.1lbs. I'll just have to hold out for the day here and miss my normal mid-morning evacuation.

In other news, I went to visit Mr Dagnall for a barbecue yesterday and arrived to the pleasant surprise that Matthewparker was already there, but the unpleasant greeting of a shower of human effluent raining upon me from the jet-washer in the septic tank.

It appears that the sewage had backed up to a disastrous level and begun flowing out onto the lawn and clearing blocked drains is not beyond the expertise of the men. Of course rodding was out of the question, since the screw fell off in the tank. We boys and my girls had our barbecue and threw various garden paraphernalia into the tree to knock down conkers (at one stage we had a broom, a rake, a garden light, two lashing straps and a 4' long, 8" diameter log wedged in there.

The ladies chose to remain indoors with their respective babies, which may well have been less fun, but certainly involved less poo.