What a great start to the day. A nice Parking Warden! I had just dropped Jack off at his Holiday Sports Camp and returned to the car to find her looking at it. She just smiled and said "Don't worry, you have 5 minutes" and even said that it was all right to pop back in as I had forgotten to give Jack his crisps for snack time.

Secondly one of the Camp Leaders looked at me in a way that made me think 'Young man..I'm old enough to be your mother, shouldn't be looking at me like that!' Nice though.

Thirdly got back to the car and two guys were admiring it and then wolf-whistled when I got in.

Must be the perfume or maybe I am exuding pheromones today. Anyway, either the rest of the day is going to be excellent or its downhill from here in.

My four-year old picked a bunch of flowers for me this morning. Guess which ones?

Also found these other pictures in the camera suggesting the wee one is taking after me in a propensity to take pictures of body parts.

Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent. As a child brought up in the Catholic faith I always had to give up something, usually sweets although one year I did give up biting my nails and never regained the habit. I gave up church at 16 (confession was getting a but scary at this point) and also gave up giving up things.

Yesterday my very Irish, Catholic mother flew in (unsurprisingly) from Ireland for half-term and is giving up whisky. I thought about giving up alcohol...for about 40 seconds and realised that I would have disappointed myself by Friday. Mother suggested I gave up using the PC at home. Nervous twitching ensued.

So I have given up chocolate..not that I eat a lot anyway which makes it a bit of a cop-out but everything else seemed too hard! :-)

However, I have already been given the chocolate challenge in the office today and resisted temptation! Hoorah!

Anyone else giving anything up for Lent?

This week two miracles occurred. I have discussed the first previously (panto success). The second was that Wales beat England at rugby. This was an unlikely outcome nevertheless I think it was a bit rash of a certain Welsh man to promise to cut off his testicles if Wales beat England.

Even more stupid is the fact that he then proceeded to carry out the deed!

Nearly forgot...it's Burns Night tonight. Won't mean much to anyone without a bit of Scottish ancestory (which is me, but as I live there so that counts). From today through to the weekend there will be a lot of haggis, neeps and tattie eating and even more poetry being spouted.

For anyone who doesn't know what a haggis is, it is a small indigenous creature with three legs. It lives on hillsides and has evolved the third (shorter) leg to enable it to zoom round the hills more effectively. It runs very fast and is difficult to catch. I've never seen a live one..but the supermarkets seem to have a good source at this time of year.

Ode to a haggis by Robert Burns.

Fair faw yir honest, sonsy face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!
Aboon them a' yet tak yir place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o'aw grace
As lang's my airm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin was help to mend a mill
In time o'need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An' cut you up w'ready sleight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm. reekin', rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swalled kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
Be thankit! hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad make her spew
W'perfect scunner,
Looks down w'sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckles as wither'd rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash;
His nieve a nit;
Thro blody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' hands will snedd.
Like taps o trissle.

Ye Powrs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer
Ghee her a haggis!