Go Team Tootill - AND WE DID

Saturday morning, 10.30am, Tatton Park.

1600 runners (or or 1590 runners and 10 members of Team Tootill) set off round the course. We even had a team logo, thanks to our mate Pete in Graphic Support Workshop. Check it out here

And I don't know how many finished, but WE DID!










Fastest Team Tootill-pootler was Steve at 52mins 30s.

I got round in 1 hour 25, according to the DJ. So did Lisa Frowny Baby, but she did wait for me so could've crossed about 5 minutes earlier. Jolan paid the price for getting stuck in jogging traffic and finished just behind.

Our Janey McN was the last over the line, so at the goading of the DJ we legged it back and crossed the line with her. Have a sneaky peek at the Running Pictures website Our bib numbers were in the 801-900 group. Be warned this page takes forwever to download.

And we've earned a shitload of cash for Cancer Research UK, thanks to our very supportive and generous mates :)

Phoebe Jane is 1 on Friday!

Our little Phoebe is nearly a year old.

I really think she should have been born on the 10th, the day they switched on the Large Hadron Collider for the first time. With bets taken on which would destroy the Universe first ;)

Instead she choose 11th September 2008 (that's 11/9 in the UK NOT 9/11 which is four days after Guy Fawkes as any fule kno). Which means I've got til Thursday pm to find a present.

Her mum has suggested I find some kind of funky bib/jacket thingy - Phoebe is enthusiastic about feeding herself, and both she and Tyler are going to graduate to proper paints soon. Covering the house top-to-toe is a bit extreme but covering the child is eminently practical.

I feel I should really find another present too. But I really need to find something robust and interesting to the child. She seems to have a penchant for her brother's toolkit, but I haven't found a girly-ish one, yet. It needs to look different to Ty's or there will be a real scrap.

I've found a fully-functioning adult's toolbox in pink, apparently real girls can't do DIY unless they have a pink screwdriver! So I ask, is it inappropriate to give a year-old child a real toolkit?
She's very bright for her age...

We're back! Sort of...

Well, since the last post;

* I've been to the Cambridge Folk Festival (check link down the side as I couldn't be arsed taking photos)

* Tyler is now 2 years old, he's got the tantrums down to perfection as he's been practising for Terrible Twos since Christmas

* Phoebe the Red-Haired Wonderkid has graduated to her first pair of shoes, and chose the bright purple shiny ones (that's my girl!)

* Bailey is still my personal trainer, although I will be doing the "10k stagger round and try not to have a heart attack" not the 10k run for Team Tootill

* My friends Lisa (Frowny Baby) and Jolan have offered to join me on the run. Stars, both of them. *especially if they carry me over the finish line

* The cats have launched a hate campaign against my sister, for tidying up the garden. To be fair she did decimate it, and the skip was not a suitable replacement

* I passed the Level 1 Deafblind Communication exam I took back in May, despite falling asleep in the final presentation with all the exam info in.

* As the child of a mixed marriage - Salford MUFC mum and Miles Platting MCFC dad - I am watching the pre-season shennanigans with great interest and no conflict whatsoever. I want them in the top two positions, with everyone else playing for 3rd place. No pressure there, lads.

And the lovely Elegant Eric was caught having a mad moment this morning! Chasing about like a true mad thing, not his usual cool self. But he's not daft - he waited until I was just about to leave for work, and couldn't film it. He's really missed Mum, so it was nice to see him perking up a bit.

We are all getting back to normal, slowly.

Bare faced cheek

To keep it brief:

A colleague in another department clashed with his boss.

This woman had been promoted beyond her level of ability - the promotion put her in charge of a department where she had no experience, and it was very tekkie so her transferable skills couldn't save her.

She and my well-qualified and experienced Colleague were on a collision course from day 1. After yet another meeting where she failed to delegate, and interferred to a point where she became dangerous, Colleague decided to quit. He was old enough to qualify for early retirement, so he took this option to get his well earned benefits.

We were out at lunchtime for his presentation.

She had made his life hell, and yet stood there and praised him in the way you would praise an elderly dog for not peeing on the carpet.

He is 56 and brilliant at his job, much missed by his colleagues.

She is now the target for a lot of revulsion and sarcastic comments.

I am wondering how this is going to pan out. His friends are talented, creative and seriously pissed off. I'm hoping their creative natures will construct some witty and extravagant revenge.

But in case that fails, they can have the box of weedkiller powder I found in the shed.

Go Team Tootill!

Our friend and colleague has been diagnosed with breast cancer.

She's getting the appropriate treatment, but we all decided that something should be done to fundraise for cancer research.

So what do a bunch of hard-drinking exercise-dodgers choose to do?

A 10k fun run, that's what....

So check us out at Team Tootill, http://www.run10ksponsorme.org/teamtootill!

She likes cats. Therefore a good sort!

Pigeon

My cats decided to have a friend round for Eurovision.

I was out, watching Manchester United win the Premiership, then off to dinner with my sister and cousin. So they figured it was safe.

I got home just in time to watch the voting, and settled down after closing the blinds. The pets were acting weird, nothing new there.

About 30 minutes into the voting, I noticed a pigeon's foot sticking out through the blinds. At first I thought it was too much champagne, but no - there was a pigeon sat on my windowsill, trying to blend into the dark window. It was doing just fine until it stuck the foot out for better balance.

So the Pesky Critters were shooed into the kitchen, while I tried to persuade the pigeon to leave. After 5 minutes, it had a name (Duckworth) and demonstrated some lovely swooping techniques as it evaded me, followed by some terrific crashing techiques as it landed on any unsuitable perch it could find.

Meanwhile, three very angry cats and a Jack Russell were going ballistic in the hallway. The tone was "Catch your own ******* pigeon, he's ours!"

Duckworth made it clear he was not a nocturnal pigeon and had no intention of going out into the dark to find somewhere to roost. I put him in a cat basket in the bathroom, to wait for morning. He seemed happy enough with the water and birdfood. In fact, after I let him out of the bathroom window he flew off, came back and sat on the windowsill.

I think he just wanted to annoy the cats.

My mum

Sadly, Rosie died on 7 May 2009.

The operation for the colostomy uncovered a tumour, which turned out to be aggressive and cancerous.

She was admitted to a local hospice.

Dr Kershaws Hospice

We had hoped to bring her home, but it was not to be.

Her funeral was this afternoon, and we requested family flowers only, with donations to Dr Kershaws from anyone else. If we won the big prize on the lottery and gave it to them, we'd not come close to repaying their kindness to Rosie and us.