Can it be true...?

Picture shamelessly stolen from Mzungu Chick but I'm sure she won't mind!

Finally, Odinga and Kibaki have signed a deal. It's a start. That has to be a good thing. The most exciting thing for me is the fact that hopefully the Kenyan people can start getting back to normal now.

My mother called me. She said that John and Daniel were "jumping round the garden". And that's what it's all about. The sense of relief felt by the Kenyan people must be immense. As I browse through my "Kenyan" blogs, I almost feel as if a huge weight has been lifted. There are questions that still remain of course but hopefully now, Kenya can start answering them.

PS the 'real' post I was going to write today can be written later.

Six nations rout...

What a weekend for the rugby. A convincing victory over Wales and a real chance of retaining the title for the third year in a row.

EDIT: quick update on previous post. Ex-housemate did email me in the end and told me I had been accepted into the regional squad. This is exciting.

It's raining outside, the heating's finally fixed and for once, I have nothing to do.

A perfect for lying on the sofa, watching bad old films, cup of tea and duvet. I love days like these.

I'm surprised you're not all grouped round me in a circle, poking me with a muddy stick and chanting "liar, liar, pants on fire".

Despite the lovely day off I had last week, I didn't manage to get near a computer and a) update myself with goings on in blogland or b) update you (all three of you) on what's been going on chez cow.

What was I doing, I hear you cry (crying's right, not sure if you're crying for more information or in distress).

I would like to tell you the reason is that I was lying in bed all day, being pampered by a naked contingent from the England rugby team. I would be lying.

I would like to tell you that I was over in Italy, stuffing myself on good wine and food in the blazing sunshine with the boy by my side. I would be lying.

I would like to tell you that I didn't spend my day off on my hands and knees cleaning the carpet in my room, dusting and generally making things look very tidy. I would also like to tell you that it stayed dust free all day and didn't suddenly look worse five seconds after I had cleaned it. But I can't.

So yes, the guilty secret is out. What did I do on my day off? Clean.

Am I turning into my mother?

She's making a list and she's checking it twice…

People I would dump N for if they glanced my way:

• Mark Cueto
• Rupert Penry-Jones - oh c'mon, he's pretty - and he got his arse out on TV
• Ben Fogle - In fact I did see him once. He didn't glance my way. He was on his phone and stalked past my drooling mass as if I were his Labrador and he was his way to an important fox hunting meet.

I don't think it's wrong to have a "list" and I don't think that, just because I've been with someone for two years, it means that I can't find other people attractive - especially if they're completely unobtainable. I think the main thing is, I don't and wouldn't do anything about it and I never would.

And besides, what's the likelyhood of any of the above men rocking into my life?

Morning all.

I was going to write a long and detailed post about my weekend, how good it was, the amusing anecdotes which were scattered throughout it, the famous people I met and loved, the lives I saved and the money I spent. However, I don't have time for that so you're going to have to content yourself with a list. In true me style.

Things I did over the weekend.

A list:

• Escaped from London
• Locked myself out of my parent's house
• Saw my neighbour in their underwear
• Had a cat sleep on my head
• Went to one of the chavviest towns in the UK to go shopping
• Went to a Hallowe'en party
• Walked out of a Hallowe'en party
• Sat in an old country pub and disgusted locals with talk of dildos
• Had a sleazy old man who looked like him off Spit the Dog wink at me (well, that's who he looked like according to N who is old enough to remember)
• Drank too much red wine
• Washed too many clothes
• Contemplated the whether Officer Crabtree in 'Allo 'allo was good looking or whether it was suffering from a hangover.
• Crawled back to London and back into bed

What did you do?

My neck aches. My brain hurts. My eyes strain against the artificial lighting.

For someone in Marketing, I’ve been doing an awful lot of number work today.

Numbers are not my strong point. Ask me what 9 x 7 is and I will fumble around for the calculator. Ask me whether it should be its or it’s, affect or effect, on the other hand, and I’m a veritable style guide.

And then we get to Countdown. Back in the halcyon days of Richard Whitely when I was a student dossing my way through an English Literature degree, weekday afternoons were usually spent with a mug of too-sweet tea, a packet of ten Marlboro Lights.

Slumped on the sofa, no doubt with a mild headache and a guilty thought that I should probably be working, 3:30 would come along and my mental exercise for the day would start.

Clever Countdown type: "I’ll have a vowel Carol… and another… and a consonant…"

Carol: "A E B F O E S T G R"

Nuttycow: "Er... best… fest… oh dammit, pass me the ashtray"

The clever people on the television sit through their 30 secs, picking their nails, cleaning their glasses.

Clever Countdown type: "Yes, I've got a 9 letter word Richard"

Nuttycow: "Dammit"

Then the numbers bit…

Clever Countdown type: "I’ll have one small one and you choose the rest Carol"

And here’s the odd bit. No matter what numbers they came up with, no matter how unlikely the result, I always managed to solve the numbers quiz.