Charidee Walk

So I've been coerced volunteered into doing a sponsored walk. For charidee. Next weekend. Up a mountain. In Scotchland. I suppose most of you are wondering, "Why do a charity walk up a mountain?" I'm just thinking, "Why me?"

Apparently this particular stretch of inhospitable wilderness pleasant country walking route has a door policy: t-shirts, jeans and trainers are "inappropriate attire" and the bouncers marshalls won't let you in unless you're bedecked with reasonably-priced walking boots, wooly socks, sou'westers, canvas trousers, ice-picks, crampons (or was that tampons?), tents, Primus stoves, and six months' supplies of Kendal mint cake. Can't be too careful, I suppose.

I can't help wondering if it wouldn't have been easier for me to donate the supplies budget to charidee and spend the day loafing on the couch watching Dr Who reruns.

A Little Princess

Princess Farty may be a Little Monster, but baby, she was Born This Way.