Day Twenty-Six

I love what we can do nowadays...Ade (my husband) has just sent off a short clip of Fay (our eldest daughter who is six) singing a song she learnt at choir to her Uncle Bob who lives in Singapore. The song goes like this...
Bob has a head like a ping pong ball
Bob has a head like a ping pong ball
Bob has a head like a ping pong ball
Like a piinnngg, like a ping pong ball.
Class.

Plus she has her hair all plated in tiny plats as it is Red Nose Day tomorrow and she needs to go in with CRAZY HAIR! So it is even more comical. Luckily Bob has quite a good sense of humour and his head is not totally dis-similar to a ping pong ball - although there is more hair growth there than most men his age!!

I love Red Nose Day. We have friends staying tomorrow for the weekend and I hope they will want to watch it. I plan to cry and laugh my way through the evening ringing up every so often when the guilt seeps through. Box of tissues, bottle of red wine, phone, credit/debit card - its all you need (maybe 2 bottles of red wine and some good dark chocolate). I've got the lot - noses for kids and car, deely-boppers and red coins.

Anyway, as usual I digress. Back to BORING writing. Yawn, yawn, no I'm not published yet, no I don't know when I will be, but certainly not by Day Twenty-Seven, that's for sure....

One of my assignments is to do a piece to get published in a magazine and I've started to look tonight - there are loads of them. It supports my theory (from an earlier post - those more attentive followers will know what I am talking about here and if you do award yourself 2 brownie points) of the rich tycoons exploiting us wannabe writers. But, it is too tedious to explore any further. In fact, I'm going to start the red nose day celebrations early. Goodbye suckers.

Until tomorrow, Cam x