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We’ve had a productive week.

House-wise we’ve cracked on with the back bedroom. We’ve sanded, sized and painted and finally managed to get the last traces of Manchester United out of the place. It’s rather sad really. But a lot prettier. This weekend we’ll paper it and finish of painting and then I can start thinking about soft furnishings. We’ve already seen some very lovely cushions.

Pete picked up the courage to investigate the flickering-light-of-death in our bathroom and found what is reportedly some very dodgy wiring up there. I’m not inspecting it myself for fear of sleepless nights. He found a half-melted connector bit that was about to burn the house down and sorted that out. It hasn’t made the second light work but he does seem to have stopped the flickering. I have every faith in him sorting it out eventually.

He also found yet more polystyrene tiles above the suspended ceiling in the bathroom. Not thinking about those either.

Juggle-wise Alby and I are that close to pwning eight club singles. Kinda. We managed a couple of runs last night which felt effortless and lovely. Nine clubs wasn’t happening, really. Although once or twice there was the semblance of a pattern there. Back to back was just hilariously bad, as usual. I think we need a video of what we’re doing. And I need to learn to throw. At one point Ady ventured “Y’know it’s easier if one of you turns around and you do drop-backs.” We know.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Alby will be spending the majority of his time at BJC lusting after German girls, I’d say we could devote our time to nine clubs in an effort to prove Jay wrong. Or at least to get us past two catches.