Well, here I am again, after taking a week off from ABC Wednesday to nurse my recently repaired right shoulder.  I still can’t use my right arm at all, so my typing is all done plink-plink with my left hand.  Therefore, I’m doing a cut-down version this week, and just posting some pretty pictures I took earlier this year in Vegas.

Las Vegas, desert town extraordinaire

Some might call it vulgar … and some of it is!

But there are some utterly beautiful parts, like The Venetian hotel, with its gondolas and classical architecture

And I just loved the way the vivid colours hung in the darkness of the night

And … guess what?

Yes – I even managed to find That Guy, Johnny Depp!

Of course, he’s much more vivacious in real life!

Even so, OH was tempted to get violent now that he was within reach …

Better not take him along to a premiere, huh? Discretion being the better part of valour, and all that.

The Princess hasn’t been feeling her usual sparkly self just lately.  No sooner was she over a nasty UTI than she developed neck and shoulder pain – I think she’s trying to compete for sickie attention!

Anyway, she still looks beautiful, as you can see, and the shameless hussy in her still can’t resist the photo opportunity.

After all, a Princess must do her civic duty!

Also, you never know if some hunky greyhound guy – like EM’s Bertie – will be sneaking a peek over someone’s shoulder.

One of the the things my rather wonderful OH has been doing while I’m recovering from the shoulder repair, is taking care of the dogs – something he’s previously left pretty much to me.

There are one or two areas where he has a bit of a blind spot, like washing The Pirate’s face (which is now going an interesting brown colour, because his tongue falls out of his mouth a lot, him being the Toothless One) but on the whole he’s doing a great job.  It’s wonderful to see the little guy tipping his gammy eye up to OH for his ointment to go in last thing at night, and even more wonderful to see OH cleaning up dog vomit on those occasions when that same little dog decides to deposit half his dinner in the back of his favourite bed to save for later.

So it seems a little unfair to make fun of him, but …

I really can’t resist this one.

OH was in the kitchen, preparing to cut up some cheese to take on the dog walk with him for treats and rewards – you know, for those times when The Princess politely declines to respond to a particularly provocative terrier, or The Pirate comes running back over the field when called. It’s good to have some tangible – and edible – evidence of approval.  Dogs appreciate that in a monkey.

So he had just got the cheap ‘dog’ cheese out of the fridge, but instead of getting on with the task in hand, he put it down on the counter and stared at it.

Me: What?

OH (muttering): Blim.  What is ‘blim’?

Me (fearing for his sanity): What??

OH: ?

I peered over his shoulder.

Me: Um.

Me: *Unsuccessful attempt to stifle giggles*

OH: What?

Me: That says ‘mild’, Sweetheart.

OH: Oh! Oh, yes …

OH: Well, it’s your fault!  I always fold the wrapper down properly so the right side is showing!

Me: HAHAHAHAHA!!!

The Pirate (dribbling): Just gimme the damn blim, Monkey!

But OH was right, of course.  As you can see from the picture, that cheese is, quite clearly, ‘blim’.

 

There were some kind of leathery, scrabbling noises from the couch, and I looked round to see this.

Why does my second son insist that he’s not funny?

Why does he continue to resist a career in comedy?

And since it was nothing to do with her at all, why does The Princess look vaguely guilty?

Answers on a postcard …