Normal service will be resumed. Probably.

Hi there! I'm back to creating carefully crafted gems of lighthearted uplifting prose.....well, okay, spilling the inane and trivial contents of my brain onto the internet. But at least I am not whining about a headache. Sorry for the slightly self-pity laden last post - it's just that in the middle of one of those damn headaches you feel so miserable that you have to offload it onto someone else. Poor First Born, for example, got both barrels on Monday morning for the dreadful crime of dripping juice from the cat food sachet onto the kitchen floor. Yes, I know, take him out and flog him, the reprobate. (I did apologise to him shortly afterwards and explained that Mum was a bit headachy and therefore had completely lost all sense of proportion.)

So you see, normally husband and children bear the brunt alone so, looking on the bright side, Internet, you spared my family the horror of coping with a squinting, grumpy, quasi-psychopathic Cyclops alone. Well done you!

In other news, I managed a short, gentle early morning run with Second Born on Wednesday morning during which he taught me the difference between a crow and a jackdaw and showed me up by dashing ahead of me at regular intervals shouting "I'm fartleking!!" Husband and I found a new chinese restaurant near our house which was completely empty apart from the entire family of the owners. We were virtually press-ganged into eating there as the nice waitress spotted us looking at the menu outside and came out onto the street to encourage us in. Social embarassment is always a good way to put pressure on Scottish people - we find it difficult to say no in such circumstances. We decided we fancied trying it anyway as it looked different. And empty. The food was really good, seemed to be more authentically chinese than you normally find in Edinburgh and came in HUGE portions. The bill was embarassingly small too. £16 for two starters, two enormous main courses and two drinks!

We then wound our way home to watch The Apprentice. I must issue a warning at this point: Husband and I get hooked on The Apprentice. We know it is formulaic and trashy but my goodness, it is addictive. So expect lots of analysis of The Apprentice on here in the coming weeks. Don't worry - if you're not a fan, you can just skip those bits. And for those readers over the Atlantic (hi!), it's the UK version I am talking about with Sralan, not the American one with Donald Trump and His Amazing Hair and Tacky Apartment. Although, we do watch that when it's on too. What can I say, we are weak. This week Nicholas with the very very small mouth got booted off first for not being able to price fish. I was surprised, frankly that a London barrister with a triple-barrelled name didn't know the price of lobster. So much for stereotypes. And then when trying to defend himself in the boardroom, he started talking about "I am from an arts background and know about culture......." and we really really wanted Sralan to respond "What's that got to do with the price of fish?" but he didn't. Shame. Can't wait for next week. I predict fisticuffs at some point between Raefe and the East End bloke in the overly pinstripey suit.