A weekend to savour. Mum had the boys and A & I set off for a bit of R & R, courtesy of Mums wedding present. A small country hose hotel with superb views of the Welsh countryside. I think we forget just how beautiful parts of this country are. After mooching around the bookshops of Hay on Wye we took a single track road which leads you up the Black Mountains and down the valley on the other side to Abergavenny. The views were simply stunning, and very few people about. This may sound poncy, but I felt very much at peace with myself, which is rare.
C & M are back from their year of travelling NZ and Canada, and we are all looking forward to seeing them, particularly C, who has missed his Auntie C. They have kept in touch wonderfully, sending the boys postcards from almost everywhere thet went. C keeps them in his desk with his 'precious' things, which is an oddball collection of things that are important to a four year old

A mixed weekend. J's birthday, as predicted was mayhem. It was great to be at home during the week and to be able to take C to school in sit in on a Friday assembly. The chaos started after school. I went to pick C up and ended up collecting him, two of his boisterous chums, plus one of J's little friends. So struggled home with three school bags, three lunch boxes, one pram, one small child and two large stuffed 'Bear in the Big Blue House' teddies. Small children then proceeded to run around like dervishes and (again) as predicted apply vast quantities of chocolate cake to every available surface. J enjoyed himself, and cleaned up on presents, including some particularly annoying noisy toys. Here's hoping they had cheap batteries fitted.

C & I went swimming on Saturday morning, and to his joy it was belting down with snow when we came out. The pool is in Malvern which is considerably more elevated than where we are, so only cold sleet when we got home, much to his disgust. Settled down at 5.30 to watch Wales v All Blacks and once again retired to bed with depression compounded by Glaws losing at Sarries the following day. Sarries, for fuck's sake, you know the season's on the slide when you lose there. Wales have got to stop being the nearly side and win when the opportunities' there. I am losing count of the amount of 'new dawns' I have lived through with Welsh rugby, it sometimes has a groundhog day air about it.

Sunday was a day of pure drudge, apart from an hour in the morning. C's football coach had asked if I'd help out, due the the increase in numbers, and I thoroughly enjoyed it, which is more than C did, having taken a big whack to the head, crying and retreating to the touchline. It's good to get him out and exercising, and blow to the head aside, he seemed to enjoy it. He does struggle with his breathing very early on, and I think it's time to see the quack for a medication review. The rest of the day was consumed with painting, which I loath. I'd rather spend the afternoon roasting my own bollocks. Still - bathroom looks nice.

A return to reality at work. A lady who works for me came back to work today after a terrible loss last week. Her son and his partner were due to have their first child last week ( also her first grandchild) but something went horribly wrong in the last three minutes of the birth and the little girl was born without a heartbeat, and they could not revive her. What can you say to someone in that situation ? We have all suffered from bereavemnet, but I have never lost someone that young. With adults you always have memories, but they will never have memories, only thoughts of what if? Being the father of two small boys almost made me feel guilty, a stupid feeling, but it was there nonetheless. I have no idea how they must be feeling, and I hope I never do.

As I sit here typing this the view from the window is a depressing one. Britain in November is a very unpleasant shade of grey. It's 3.45 and we are already shrouded in a gloomy half light. I cannot stand this time of year. Everything is made more dismal, the news always seems to be more morose, or is that me being more morose ?

There is light, a long weekend starting tomorrow, J's second birthday. If he's two, that makes me uuuuuuummmm, nearly 37.Cosmic. After working stupidly hard this week I am going to struggle not to be zombified at the weekend, a plan will be hatched and kept to . I know we have a party planned for tomorrow, although A has organised it, and I have no idea who will be there, I assume assorted rugrats will be smearing chocolate cake over our soft furnishings, and the cats will vanish for the day. Swimming on Saturday, and settle down late afternoon to watch Wales (hopefully) give those poncy All Blacks a rugby lesson. Football with C on Sunday. FOOTBALL. I ask you. He's not old enough for rugby, so football it is. I've even been roped in as a 'parent/helper'. I realise I am no expert on the roundball game, but for my own vanity, call me a coach. Gumpher you're a coach, boom boom.

Shame Colin Powell's going. The only sane one in that bunch of retards. Replaced with Condi Rice. Jeez.