Infinity: "If the numbers were turned around it would be more than zero."

Wet wet wet floor, afternoon tea in bed, The Princess and the Carrot.

When Iris gets home from the rulebound hivemind she is an agent of chaos and does things original ways.

Ed has a lung clot, poor thing. Hazel's MMR reaction within scope of normal may last another 2 weeks. Sigh.

I'll be 40 tomorrow.

"Mummy! The Ricies all came out and I'm trying to pick up as many as possible before ten seconds is past!"

Rain, torrents thereof, at 3:07, a perfectly timed strike.

Iris is very impressed with her classmate who can do armpit-farts. She wants him to be her arm-fart teacher.

Iris seems to have taken to school like a retriever to water.

Yesterday first day with actual free time—enjoyed watching Neverwhere.

Skin Histamine.

Earwig? wending into secret ear 

on tiny shuffling feet. Not scratching! 
"It's not sunburn, it's hives."
Can't get hydrocortisone deep in there. 

Listening for fearwig, not scratching, 

"What did you say?"  

Tag on back of dress Must Go! 

Elbow patted in gentle sympathy too. 

Something seethes behind these knees. 
War; me or that tag, and I'm not scratching, 

see thick skin, lymph is pooling.

Not scratching, not scratching. 

"I don't know what I'm allergic to."

I don't know if I'd know even if I did know: not scratching takes half my mind,

and with the other half I'm sitting, nothing brushing this skin, 

intending to pay close attention to the Playcentre allergy list. 

The kids and Sean prepared squid. The squid were not made tender by slow-cooking. I prefer squid in formaldehyde.

I'm allergic to something, on the beach-necklace. Sleep is my earholes not itching. Lovely phenargan, lovely hydrocortisone.

That was a full-on day. Good things: Mary's Euan waited for his dad before being born and Iris enjoyed school.

Just used new bus card Snapper for the first time, got on the wrong bus, but the card worked.

Iris just caught a fly with a pipi shell, that's pretty fast.