Crunch.

Grumpy morning.

Dawn gets out of bed and starts ironing. I have never known anyone who could face a pile of ironing each and every morning.

Five minutes later, I rub my bleary eyes and join Dawn in the kitchen. Coffee and much yawning and rubbing of eyes. It's seven thirty.

Five minutes later, the Kirsty emerges. She's grumpy and not speaking. The television goes on, and a quick unspoken inspection reveals that there is not enough room in the kitchen to fix breakfast. Back to the telly.

Ironing finished, Dawn goes upstairs to get ready, and to get Connor up.

I sit in the lounge reading the newspaper.

The Kirsty goes to make breakfast.

Connor comes down.

The Kirsty goes upstairs to get ready - The marathon has begun. I am sure the Kirsty will not mind me referring to it as a marathon.

I offer to make breakfast for Connor, but he doesn't want it yet. He lies in a heap under his quilt on the sofa, with just enough room to be able to see whatever is on the telly. The programme this morning is about some bloke whose fiance was killed in a bomb blast and has since found love again. I wonder what's going through Connor's head at this point!

I am still embedded in a two day old newspaper.

Dawn comes down and fixes Connor breakfast. She sets up a little TV table and puts the breakfast in front of the heaped duvet, and disappears back upstairs. The quilt doesn't move.

Ten minutes later, I notice that the quilt has not moved. I suggest Connor eats some breakfast. Eventually the quilt moves.

Five minutes later, Dawn is summoned, due to a shortage of milk on said cereal.

Dawn is ready now, and goes to the shop to assemble the missing items for this morning's routine. Bread and milk. Connor's breakfast receives the requisite top-up.

Eventually breakfast is finished and Connor and the quilt go back upstairs. Presumably from Dawn's bemusement, both find their way back onto the bed.

Dawn's in the kitchen, finally fixing her own breakfast. It's about eight thirty now. I take my leave and head off home.

The only thing missing in today's routine was Tom. He stayed at a friend's house last night because he has no school today. Today's routine was quiet. Sleepy, grumpy, and very quiet. What a difference a Tom makes!!!

I reach my garden gate. Step through and....

Crunch.

Snail beneath my trainer is obliterated into broken shell and mush.

The second of realisation, and as my other foot goes down.....

Crunch.

It's a bad morning for snails.

Buy cheap....

..... Buy twice.

I know I always advocate the Gary Ford shopping mantra of "buy cheap, buy twice", and usually observe this advice well. Today is an exception.

Dawn's not well.

I dropped Tom at school, took Connor to his school, and dropped The Kirsty at work.

With Dawn in her pyjamas underneath some hastily assembled clothing, and Stevie the wonder dog in the back of the car, I headed off to B&Q for some animal trap action.

It's always a bloody pain parking at B&Q for some reason, and I always try to get near the door, and of course there are never any spaces, and by the time you've reached the door and not found a space then it's far too late to be doubling back. I parked in Comet's car park and walked back.

Poorly Dawn and a hot dog waited in the car. I wouldn't be long..... would I?

As I enter the store, I have to fight my way through crowds of people...... the tills are down, and they are manually writing out item sheets, and then scanning the items at the tills with some sort of hand held device which tells them the price. It looks like slow going.

B&Q is completely the other side of town to my house, and there was no way I was going to come here and leave without my trap.

Eventually I find a member of staff who is not busy writing out little sales slips, and we establish the location of humane rat traps. Aisle 50, the last one of course!! I get there, and there's one rat trap left. The traps I have seen online are going to be about forty quid, and this one (cheaper because there's no postage of course) is much cheaper at fifteen quid. I take it.

I get in a queue for someone to write me a little slip out. I get my little slip written out and I get in another queue for a till. The usual chaos ensues, whereby there seem to be two queues leading to my till, and of course it's the other queue that's doing all the moving.

Puffing and blowing I reach the till, only to be told that the tills are now working, and someone comes and collects my little slip, and I go through the till in a normal fashion. All told, approximately one hour and fifteen quid lighter.

I get home and open the trap, to find that it's about as much use as a chocolate teapot. None of the pieces are manufactured correctly, and I have to start bending little pieces of metal rods to make any of it function.

I have now set the trap, baited it with cheese (a nice piece of Irish Carberry), and to be fair, I think the rat is as safe as he was before I spent the time and money!!

Watch this space!!

In other news, I stuck a few more photos in my Flickr album today - you can see the full moon from last night and some from a bluebell wood today..... what more could you ask for?

Florence Bleeding Nightinfox....

First was Tom's flu.... Copious amounts of Mario and sofa time. Next was Kirsty's turn, and like all women, she breezed through her go, with neither complaint nor demand. Today is Connor's turn to swing the "sniffles" lead.

I do realise, that some may have misread my previous post and thought I had a new girlfriend, but these three are the children of the lovely Dawn, who is my current partner.

I mentioned, back at the beginning of the new year, that the new broom was about to sweep clean. Being able to mention these people is part of it.

Having ended my long-term relationship earlier last year, it has been difficult to try to explain this through the blog, mainly because you never know who is lurking!!

Now, I am happy to announce that I feel the time is right, that I can introduce the new players in the pageant, that I laughingly refer to as "my life".

First is Connor - He is the youngest (just 9 years old). He is a raging torrent of energy, filled brimful of Simpsons and Star Wars. I try to steer Connor away from sugar where possible!!

Second is Tom - Like Malcolm, he's in the middle. Aged 14 and Nintendo crazed as I was at that age. If there were exams in Mario and wall-jumping, then he'd have a degree by now. If he could translate his aptitude for procrastination into homework, then he'd be a genius!

Top of the pile is THE Kirsty. She's a student of beauty in Huddersfield, aged 17. I gather that studying beauty amounts to buying lots of magazines, and inflicting pain on particularly hairy women.

One rung down, there are the animals - There's Stevie the wonder dog, who loves chewing on socks. There's a rabbit and 2 guinea pigs (unless I am mistaken). There's also a veteran cat, called Rosie. Oftentimes, I am found outside their house smoking a cig, shouting "Rosie" into the night like Humph in African Queen.

Last, but by no means least, there's Dawn. My partner. She's a strong woman (bringing this tribe up on your own would do that to anyone!!) who has enough get-up-and-go for the both of us.

And so, my blogging moves forward. The actors are introduced. I can now write freely about them without having to code or hide anything from anyone.

Dawn and The Kirsty both read my blog, so I better be nice about them, otherwise I will be sleeping in with the rabbit!!

A new dawn has truly begun.