Miracleman!! How the hell are ya?

I'm in Michigan, apparently.

...alcohol *may* have been a factor.

Mac and cheese with extra sharp cheddar in the oven. I love Sundays

Hi, Miracleman! Your sarcasm has been missed here.

Pumpkin lasagna came out yummy, though I need to use less sauce next time.

Wow, mac and cheese AND pumpkin lasagne. Y'all are cooking!

I want to bake cookies but I don't have all the ingredients for the ones I want to bake, le sigh. I've been pruning roses instead.

Ooh, now I want to bake cookies too! Well, I want to eat fresh baked cookies, at least.

However, I don't think that is happening from bed, which is where I am right now. Naaaaaaaaaaap!

The talk of cookies reminded me I have frozen ready to bake gingerbread cookies. However, I'm not baking them because apparently you have to defrost them in the fridge overnight so you can roll them into balls and then roll those balls into sugar before cooking them.

Dear Trader Joe's,

Frozen cookies are not supposed to be that complicated.

No love,

Me

{{{{{{{Buffistas}}}}}}}}}}

I heartily agree with all the wise things said and deeply sympathize with all the pain.

I've just caught up on 600 posts. That's about my level of accomplishment for the day.

My weekend achievement: Ryan no longer sleeps in a cot. He now has a big boy bed of his very own. Thus ends a month-long epic tale of hope, betrayal and triumph over adversity.

The journey begins with our New Zealand cruise. For the duration, Ryan shared a cabin with his parents. He loved it, unsurprisingly, for two reasons: he had company at night, and with us around, he wouldn't fall asleep until maybe 10:00 or 11:00 (even midnight, once or twice). We could get him to lie down quietly at least, but actually sleeping was another matter.

We also took the opportunity to try him out in a proper bed. We have a portable cot, but ships' cabins are not overly generous with space, and in any case we felt it was about time to see how he managed getting out from behind bars. He fell out a couple of times (protip: get a foam roller or roll up a towel, and put it under the fitted sheet to create a barrier), and on one such occasion whacked his jaw quite hard on the bedside table; but on the whole it was pretty successful. And, again, Ryan was very proud to be sleeping in a big bed like Mummy and Daddy.

When we returned, we agreed it was time for a permanent move. We'd originally bought him a convertible cot for this occasion. All I needed to do was replace the cots' sides with a pair of stabilising cross-beams (that would also help keep his mattress in place) and Bob's your uncle! (Or, in Ryan's case, Kezbob.) First weekend of January, I pulled out the toolkit and dismantled his cot. It was at this moment that we discovered that the furniture bolts would not fit the nuts embedded in the cross-beams. These bolts had been holding the cot's sides in place; for some unfathomable reason, the conversion pieces didn't match anything else in the bed set.

After an hour or so of trying to work out how we might get around the problem, and what the hell the manufacturers were smoking, there was nothing for it but to reassemble the cot. My little boy was devastated. He'd already had more than one meltdown since our return owing to no longer sharing a room with his parents and being expected to return to his usual bedtime of 7:00. (Seriously, I haven't seen anything like it from him before.) This disappointment didn't improve his stance on bedtime etiquette.

Thus it was that I headed to Bunnings (think Home Depot) with cross-beam in tow, looking for furniture bolts that would fit it. No luck. Back to the store from which we bought the cot. They brought out their Big Bag of Bolts. Nothing fit. They recommend a specialist bolt store. Only problem was, they were still closed for the holidays. Next weekend, I visit them. They look at the cross-beam, and pronounce the embedded nuts "weird". They have nothing to fit them. They don't know of anyone who would - these nuts are entirely non-standard in diameter and thread. We're at a dead end.

My next approach is to look up furniture stores who might be able to fashion some new cross-beams to match the existing bolts. While I'm doing this, Biyi steps in, and discovers that the weird-arse nuts are removable! Now we have a new plan of attack - back to Bunnings, to buy some standardised nuts to match our standardised bolts. Easy! Less easy: the hole in the cross-beams left byt the nuts is larger than the new nuts (yet the bolthole was smaller. Such is the way of the weird-arse nut). I return equipped with an endearing substance called Builder's Bog. By now, however, we've run out on another weekend. The project sits uncomplete until the weekend just gone.

Saturday afternoon: Biyi takes Ryan out to the park while I claim the garage as my workspace. The Builder's Bog proves to be quite easy to work with. Before long, there are four brand new nuts firmly embedded in hardening lumps of Bog. Yesterday, after Ryan's nap, I dismantle the cot for the last time. Within half an hour, a free-standing bed takes its place. Ryan is most impressed by his Daddy's ability to wield an Allen key. (As was Biyi, I think.)