Familial

In the finest of British traditions, our main holiday destination is the Isle of Wight. It’s where Z and his parents went, and where his brother and brother’s wife still go (but not the same village as us, oh no ¬¬). When we went last time, we spent a few days at the UK’s oldest theme park, Blackgang Chine. They were celebrating the 175th anniversary, and there was a singing dodo that popped out of a cake at one point. Between that and bringing home our own stuffed dodo, we now have a silly family tradition of wiggling butts at each other while singing the dodo song. We, unsurprisingly, call it dodo-ing each other. Z is chuffed because hey, nice blend of something he loved from his childhood with our own household flavour. Because yanno, butts.

It’s annoyingly warm today. Like, it’s ‘only’ 74F, but it feels a lot hotter. It’s hard to explain — it’s just squishy. But eh. It’s not squishy enough to stop me from working on the sock knitting. I’ve still got some inches to go, but the progress over the weekend has been very satisfying. Will I finish it tonight? Definitely not, but it’s not too far off.

Right. Shake yer butts, have a goodun, I’m off.

<3