I've shopped today and now I've dropped. Damn gravity. It's hard to believe that this time tomorrow I'll be on camp - it seems to have sneaked up when I wasn't looking. There's a lot of washing and packing to do before then, and I'd better re-waterproof my waterproofs if the beeb's weather forecast is anything to go by. We got all the tents out this morning - piles and piles of canvas and tables - and discovered all sorts of things lurking at the back of the camping cupboard. I just hope we've got everything, or it could be a long trip back to pick up the forgotten items...

After CMT's recommendation, I phoned the man at Pumpkin Organic this morning, and he delivered our first veg box this evening! Very exciting it was too, including fennel, carrots, radishes, spring onions, and some random green leaved things that we can't identify but are probably spinach. What with this evening's vegetable curry, I feel smug and healthy, although the chocolate pudding probably cancelled out any Brownie points I'd earned from the first course! Off to collapse in a heap and digest...

Preparations for Guide camp roll on apace. I am now the proud owner of cleaning materials ad infinitum, plus a new dustbin. I know that I should be taking advantage of the sales in all of the major high street clothes retailers, but somehow I can't force myself to cross the threshold: I dispair of having new clothes in time for the start of term. Instead, I'll have to make do with anti-bacterial spray, which I have in abundance. I'm not sure it's a good way of covering errant flesh but at least I'll be clean.

Today, I have been mostly wearing flour, accessorised with raw cake mix dried in a smear up my face. Although my Guides would be horrified ("That's got raw egg in it, Mad, you might DIE") I do so love raw cake mix. In fact, I'd quite happily scrape bowls for a living. Sadly, it's not a well-paid job and has devastating effects on the waistband, so seems to be unlikely to rate as one of my all-time-top-ten suitable jobs, but even so the idea's tempting.

In between baking, I've also built and filled a CD rack, and tidied the computer corner so that it's possible to use the scanner without having to dig through layers of important-yet-mislaid paperwork. However, being my usual self, the tidied up corner is beautifully clutter-free, but all the clutter was just moved to the windowsill alongside. It's the chaos theory of tidying: you move the clutter from one place to another, and eventually it all disappears. Miraculous. I'm not so sure that Rob's converted to this wonderful scheme, but he has plenty of time to get used to it. He seems to be coping so far and he's still unpacking boxes, so it looks like he's intending staying for a while. He's obviously more foolish than I thought.

On Friday we head off to Peak 2005, an international camp for Scouts and Guides held slightly further north in the county. We're taking 40 people; there should be 6,000 in total. What this means, however, is that I've got to do some rapid organising about food - I've made some half-hearted attempts, but haven't actually *done* much yet. Today, therefore, is a day to do preparation: there are 40 portions of sticky-toffee pudding to make; a vegetable curry to try out; and mug trees to complete (hopefully without the evil blister that I got last time). Have fun!

Wireless interneting means being able to listen to music online while sitting in bed. I sense a whole new dimension to my holiday pastimes.

And now sitting on my bed, where I have a signal strength of 'Excellent'... blogging has just entered a whole new dimension. Excellent it certainly is. It's pretty damn good having Rob here too. *happy contented sigh*

And now I'm in the kitchen, with the pooter resting on the cooker (the table is full of Rob's stuff - he's moved in at last)

I'm sitting on my sofa writing this bloggage, a good ten foot away from where I normally sit for such spoddery. Yup, my Saturday evening has been spent geeking, but the wireless network is installed, security features are turned on, and I am very happy. But also sad. At least, that's what you're thinking, so I might as well admit to it.

But I get a nice blue light on my laptop when it's wirelessing, so that makes it all ok.

The prize for the most ridiculously stupid computer instruction manual goes to Belkin for their effort with the wireless router. Utter shit. I've missed the best part of an hour of cricket because of it. B'stards.

I'm beginning to regret volunteering to make new mug trees for Guide camp. Admittedly it's mindless work, allowing me to listen to Test Match Special, but it's made a huge blister on my right index finger. I have 50 hooks to screw into broom staves and I've done eight so far; I'm bored already. Perhaps I ought to tidy up instead: Rob moves in tomorrow. Yikes. At the moment, it looks like he's going to be sleeping on the sitting room floor surrounded by A10 catering tins of beans and rice pudding and piles of D of E paperwork. Good job he's a tolerant blokey.

England all out, they haven't done as frighteningly badly as they could have done. Pieterson was great. Time for a new innings. I can see today slipping away in the way that yesterday did.

How crap can phishing spammers be? I've just had a "your account will be suspended" type email from Barclyes Bank. D'oh!

The England team are doing frighteningly badly, after such a promising start. Youch.

THE AUSSIES ARE ALL OUT!!!!!!!! Raah!

I came back from Rob's yesterday, with a car full of boxes and bags, a new pie dish, and - joy of joys - a wireless router. Raaah! I've been resisting opening the box containing the router because a) it will distract me; and b) Rob's the geek, so he can set it all up. Either way, within 72 hours, I'll have several more boxes, plus a man in my flat. Eeek. Better get on with some tidying up so there's room to squeeze him in. The Ashes commentary is making this a far less tedious task than it could be.

Listening to the Ashes while trying to write letters, school documents, and blog entries is a good way of guaranteeing sentences that read as, "A business is an organisation that is nicely bowled by Flintoff and - ooh - it's just gone between the pad and the glove." I'll just have to stop working.

Can anyone recommend good farm shops or vegetable box schemes (preferably organic) in Derbyshire or its environs? Even the mighty google is failing me. Had better go and whip my banana cake out of the oven before it burns...

Superficial tidying up has turned into deep-layer paperwork sorting. It's not been a pretty job. Mind you, I *have* discovered a sofa sitting under a pile of junk, so that's a bonus, as another of my sofas is full of food in preparation for this summer's Guide camp and I was getting a little short of bum space.

As if I don't have enough CDs already, I just ordered a new album from New Zealand, of all places. Even with postage, it's still cheaper than many CDs here. It's a barmy world.

One of the best things about school holidays is that I can sleep for as long as I want in the morning, without worry about missing first lesson. In fact, the absence of a rigid routine is a blessing in its own right: I can even get away without wearing a watch. It takes a while for me to snap out of 'wake up early' mode, but once I'm in touch with my inner sleeper I feel capable of sleeping for Britain in 2012. Today I even managed to wake up, finish reading the book I started last night, and then fall back to sleep - it's like the triple jump for somnambulists.

Another good thing about the holidays is time: time to potter about; time to be with friends; time to spend more than just a rushed weekend with the Boy Wonder. I've even managed to go shopping: CDs, books, a new pair of shorts... it's all excitement here. I've even found time to tidy up my flat, albeit to find bits of paperwork that have become lost under piles of other paperwork and camping equipment.

However, in a week and a half, my flat stops being mine. Everything, from spices to furniture, becomes 'ours'. Rob has got a job up here and moves in next weekend. While this pleases me intensely it's also a tad scary: how the hell am I meant to squeeze him into a flat where every nook and cranny is jammed full of my clutter? Being ruthless is the only way, I fear. Goodbye to those jeans that I might, one day, be able to fit into again - I bought them when I was 17 and there's years of wear left in them. Tarra to back issues of Private Eye that I was keeping for the cartoons. Farewell to drawers full of old socks that only get worn at the extreme end of a laundry crisis. In the grand scheme of things, I think it will be good for me.

Damn. That's tha phrase I use when trying to persuade the kids to do something that's going to be tough and hard work. I've been a teacher too long.

At least I've not described it as 'character forming' yet.

Reporting, cleaning, packing, end-of-terming, and D of E-ing are all finished. I have new thermarest and new hair. Other than that, things are quite dull and holiday-relaxing-like. More later.

D of E tomorrow. Too much caffeine today. Lacking the ability to sleep. Pish.