Aaargh, so tired. Still 3.5 pieces (ok, admittedly 2.5 are small, but those ones are in French and one of them doesn't even exist as an idea in my brain yet, because OH YES, I have no brain left) to write by Sunday.
Drove (most reluctantly) L to his guitar lesson only to find out the guitar teacher had cancelled it without telling us.
Roads exceptionally full of lunatics.
Having some issues with these notes of mine for a hotel review:
"Botanical"? Possibly "Barry Spence", whoever he is. An interesting "€180m2", however that works. "Sublet chocolate covered"?
The horrifying rustle of YouTube origami tutorials continues. I have been 'gifted' a crane the size of a small dog. I dream of bonfires.
Make this madness stop.
Got a go of a new horse today, the perplexingly named "HERMESS" (I don't know if the capitals are significant). He is excellent, a Rolls Royce of equines, who makes you feel like you're actually really good at this horse business.
Both children have brought home wholly satisfactory bulletins (half-termly gulag reports), so I do not have to send them down a mine yet, nor indeed pay more attention to their homework, which is a mercy.
M introduced me to an eight-legged Norse Horse, Sleipnir (though why you'd call an eight-legged equine battle badass "Slipper" escapes me) and a boar, or "battle swine" called Hildisvini.
E: They were good at names, the Norses.
M: They were awesome in every way. None of this salvation bullshit, just DESTRUCTION.
E: Perhaps we could bring it back? The world is ready for more smiting, I feel.
M: Yes, let's. Bring back Thor.
E: Thor is very now, I feel. Got a problem? Smash it with a hammer. Still got a problem? SMITE IT WITH THUNDER.
I saw this chap advertising a crêperie on the Rue de Flandre, prompting me to think there should be more caped ferrets on signage. Also, I bet the Norses would have a good name for him.