It’s been hot hasn’t it. Aside from my scorched pate and realisation that the shorts are a little snugger than I recalled when they were shoved into the wardrobe last September, I have been appreciative of the weather, and the fact that I am not an Old English Sheepdog. Oli has been feeling it this week, shaved or not, he’s a panting machine.
We have a fan just for him in the front room and he lies in front of it for hours on end. He appears to be eternally tired in the hot weather. We spent yesterday on a local park with the family, which included Baxter, Oli’s cousin. He ran, played and harassed Baxter for around three hours solid, so when he got home, in front of his fan, he slept like a big hairy dog, who was tired and glad to be somewhere cool.

Today, Rebecca and I took Oli for a longish walk around the local golf course, and once again he is now sleeping it off, but this time on Rebecca’s knee being loved to death.
I am still in denial of certain real life events that I refuse to commit to bloggage at this stage. I do confess to not being fully at the races in terms of my bloggage, and my usual inane ramblings on Facebook and Twitter, but hopefully soon this will all be done and dusted. I will say it is work related, and that I hope to have things sorted out in the coming few weeks, but I am right royally pissed off with the situation, and in due course don’t worry I will piss and moan about it in great detail. I want to get it sorted first though so bear with me.
So despite that dark cloud spoiling the virtual weather, we have loved the sunshine and I stand by my oft stated belief that the world is a different, and better place for a touch of warmth and sunshine. I mean how much fun must it have been for Louise today to be able to do all the ironing out on the decking? That is what dreams are made of surely.
This evening, a strange occurrence happened, in that the entire family gathered on the sofas to watch a football match. Usually this is a solitary pursuit of mine, but with a team filled with the likes of Gerard (what accent have I got today) Butler, and Jason Isaacs Louise suddenly became all interested in football, and add to that two idols of the girls in Will Ferrell and Mike Myers and everyone had a reason to be watching.

Even Oli watched with us. As you see, the warm weather resulted in my shorts being dug from the back of the wardrobe. Steady yourself ladies.
As nice as it was to watch something as a family, Louise was on fire with her comments, which had us in stitches and with head in hands in equal measure.
Example 1
Voice over chap on the telly says that Roy Keane is the finest living Irishman. Louise responds (to the telly) by saying “What about Tom Jones?”
Example 2
Robbie Savage makes a comment that Aston Merrygold from JLS should change his name to Martin as he is so quick. Louise responds (to the telly) with “Who the hell is Martin Merrygold?”.
Example 3
The teams are lining up in the tunnel. Louise asks who the big chap is behind Johnny Wilkes in the England team. David Seaman says I. Oh, says Louise, and what country is he from?
There were many others, and I can confirm that not one drop of alcohol has passed her lips today! If this had been a competitive match, and even worse involving Liverpool, I fear I would now be filling in a big hole underneath the patio, and we don’t even have a patio!
You will have noticed a complete lack of me whittering on about Disney stuff and my endless planning. As I said earlier, crappy real life stuff is keeping that on the backest of back burners for now, but as soon as I have this sorted, believe me, I will be back on that at full throttle, and you’ll be sick to death of it I assure you.
For now, I am getting my blog done whilst in the same room as The Only Way is Essex, and feeling quite proud of the fact that I have not carried out some form of dirty protest across the telly screen. It surely is a crime against all that is vaguely intelligent.
So I hope you have all enjoyed your BBQs, beer gardens and burnt bits, and let us all play spot the pinkie tomorrow at work. By that I mean those of us that have over indulged in the sunshine and not Brian in accounts with his todger out again.
Till the next time……