Blond Boris won. Boooooo.
My neighbours happened to be outside City Hall when the final results were coming through. The Evening Standard already had their papers stacked up outside with the headline that Boris had won. The paper showed a photo of Boris kissing and glad-handing an old lady.
The old lady 'happened' to be right there next to my neighbours. She and her partner appeared to be a little theatrical. Could that have been a staged photo op? Mmmm... whaddya think?
Fortunately there's been plenty going on this weekend to keep me from dwelling on such a political disaster (as disasters go, I'm hoping this will be relatively boring).
I've been baking cakes and fabulous fish pies. Ellie joined in by finding the flour and tipping it all over the floor. She loves the sensation of all that smooth flour over her legs and feet.
Recarro was quite upset by all of this, but I think it's inevitable. He's suggesting we reorganise all our food cupboards so that it can't happen again.
After bath time, we put an extra layer of warm clothes on her and took her out to the beach. We had a date with our neighbours, Daisy (not her real name of course - but she's pregnant and blooming) and Tom (also not his real name, but what other name goes with Daisy?).
You might think us mad for taking a newly bathed baby to the beach. It worked out fine, Ellie was tired so didn't romp about too much. It's a shingle beach with only a little sand and the tide was a long long way out.
We could be pretty certain of catching Ellie before she got her ankles wet.