Kung Fu Mummy

Sunday, 6th July, 2008

My literary plans for the day are confounded. Kung Fu Panda was amusing, but didn't spur any spin off jokes. The dogs aren't back, so can't go to the foot of our stairs, then bleat and whine about being allowed up.

A lot of people have asked why this blog isn't sexually explicit. But that's really not what I'm about. The purpose of the blog is to explore the middle-aged angst of a not-so-desperate housewife. But the day got off to a good start. Nuff said, Mrs Moore. We had a Spanish tribute lunch, chorizo tortilla, e pimientos de padron.


In truth, my adrenals are worn out by, what I reckon, was the best Wimbledon final I have ever seen. Scratch the best Wimbledon final, the best game of tennis - ever. The chipmunk eventually won, which made me happy. And possibly lots of other women. So that's why this post is a day late.

Monday, 7th July, 2008

I took my paperwork into the bank, to get my credit card and paying in book in my new name. How exciting is that?