Andrew meanwhile asks if he get crack on with making a brilliant dig photo album and Ali and Charlie shoot off to compose some more plonky music. Why do we have to go anyway? I do the maths, then share with them the costs for the day. Charlie who has just returned from Glastonbury says, he doesn't see the point to a music recording centre. Whaaat! I cry, you must have vibrations galore in your head, put them to good use. I valiantly try to rescue the situation and mention that the others are going to the BBC on the same day with a 6.00 am start, we thought you would like a treat too, I say doubtfully at this point. George has a right royal strop and Kieran continues to flop about and consistently moans about being rubbish and how can he write a story about a rabbit feeling rubbish, when all he can do is rubbish and who will read it, and who will visit the blog, nobody, and by the way he is BORED.
In the midst of it all, disappointment reigns, the boys are high viz cranky and I can feel my hair standing on end, and there is a feeling for a need of something strong, whilst Bev's eyes are narrowing and Mrs Leach's shoulders look like they are going to implode. The nearby large pair of copper tailoring scissors look tempting, but in a flash and a flurry of newly found fabric there is a quick stage set up and a makeover. Harry bravely rises to the challenge and Henry leaps up onto the table and flips a video camera into action. There is finally a late news report, but by this time we have all lost the plot and there is talk of cancelling all action.
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| I think we have been doing too much about WORK, what we need is to PLAY! |
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