Alea iacta est: no going back

So today our house is advertised upon the interweb of deceit (not before time). It makes the whole process a bit more real when the leap into the void has been made and you're out there in cyber-land. But the agent promised he'd advertise it last Friday. 3 separate people have advised us to believe nothing they say.

At least, that is what should have happened. Apparently the sales manager and his cohorts of eager typists and cyber-whizz advertising professionals spread across a dozen locations ensuring total local coverage could not manage to stitch together 3 photographs and a house description and post it to a property comparison website within 3 1/2 days of promising to do it. Disappointing.
Today I had yet another head bump note from the bump stop at school. This is not unusual. But coincidentally Bud had one as well and visited the work bump stop (occupational health nurse) because last night the razor had slipped while performing a home lobotomy, turning the bathwater pink. When adults point and laugh you know it's time to fix it.
Erin is refusing to go to Karate lessons because the student has overtaken the teacher.
Tonight was the last Beaver Scouts session before Xmas and the Panto. We made christingles which is an orange with a candle stuck in it (use your Tory MP here) and small chop on toothpicks stuck into it like so many satellites.