I'm so glad I added the sitemeter button to my journalscape blog (if you're reading this at diaryland I double post - same old shite but with a reliable built-in comments box that lets anyone in, with just an easily-readable five figure security doodah - it's here if you want to say hello). The stats on journalscape are mental (Bex - on your homepage they're on the left below all the quotes). According to them I've racked up 10,000 hits in the few months I've been on here - about a hundred a day, and to be honest, I didn't like that. But now I have sitemeter I can not only see that there's not that massive silent mob, just us, but also that some old friends are still here, which makes me happier than I can say. Bert, Hvitveis, I hope things are well with you and thank you so much for staying with me on this fucking - argh, I nearly said journey, like this is the bloody X-factor, but you know what I mean.

Joistmonkey said something tonight about whether or not he'd done enough for it to be 'worth updating' - well that's a concept best left unexplored by us daily posters, suffering from chronic bloggitis. Never let it be said that having nothing to write stopped me blethering on at length.

It does get hard when you want to write but it's just the same old same old, especially when that same old involves struggling on and on over the same difficulties.

But now there's the wedding coming up - that's different. I'm sure it's going to be a pretty enjoyable day because of the people who are coming - such a fabulous and strange mixture of old friends and family and strangers (SIL2's lot). I'm really pleased that there's been a lot of conversations going, "Ooh, is X coming? Brilliant, I haven't seen them for ages!" which bodes well. One of the advantages of YD living at home until late into her twenties has been that she's formed her own relationships with many of my friends, so almost all my motley bunch of pals are coming.

The party is taking place in a field belonging to someone we know (close friends of Sis's husband) who owns a chunk of land that includes a section of forest and the fields bordering it. Beautiful. It's on the Saturday but YD and SIL2 will go down earlier in the week to set up camp and a good few are arriving on Thursday - most of our Glasto camp - to start decorating. The yurts are also arriving on Thursday - one big one for the meal and the dancing, two smaller ones for the bar and the chill-out area. This is the band we will be dancing to:



but first D and SB (the two who were here yesterday) are going to sing this for YD and SIL2's first dance:



which will make me cry all over again. The actual service will be in a hotel in the village (quite a noncy one from the look of it) and I'm walking her down the aisle - I refuse the 'giving her away' aspect, she's not a fucking parcel - which upset her father until it was pointed out to him that he needed to shut the fuck up if he wants to come to the wedding at all. Honestly, the cheek of the man - he lives just a few miles across the river but she's only seen him four times since she's been in London and before that it was often four or five years between visits - at which he frequently was or became drunk as skunk, never a penny in maintenance, and he thinks he can breeze in and she's his to give away. Ah well. He's a useless twat in many ways but I've developed a soft spot for him since he's been the subject of Son's ruthless analysis so I'll play nice on the day.

Today I have done very little apart from walking two miles back from acupuncture, very slowly, planted out some clematis into a high black bin, hoping it will grow down pleasingly and washed up. I'm not going to do much tomorrow either.

I am grateful for: you guys; music; a great night's sleep; last of YD's Mother's Day fish-cakes for dinner, delicious; feeling chilled

Sleep well, dear peeps xxx