If Scotland vote YES, Fred Perry will become the last British male to win Wimbledon (1936)…… again!! pic.twitter.com/Vawo1MfdYb — The Betting Bar (@TheBettingBar) September 18, 2014 Blimey, I wish Scotland would go to the polls more often. I’ve spent all day laughing.

Why is it that on one of the very few mornings I have overslept in my entire life it is the one morning I had booked an 8 am dentist appointment? I am still getting over the shock that the boys have gone to school and Mr T has gone to work with without waking me. The dentists have now given me a cancellation for 8 am tomorrow. Please God let me remember. Anyway, I have done a quick survey of the house: I am not convinced the boys have had any breakfast, brushed their teeth or, in Master Ben’s and Mr T’s case, taken a packed lunch – although there is a rogue plastic container on the kitchen cabinet. I think that’s as far as they got before the effort of making a sandwich proved too much. Nobody had remembered to let out Miss Agatha, our last remaining chicken,

I am quite sad that in the last week or so young Master Benedict’s voice has begun to break. In a way it signifies the end of an era. Some of you may remember this funny video of him playing with his plastic machine gun. More recently, he was filmed at Wimbledon. The next time I post a video of him he’ll probably sound like Placido Domingo. On another note – I am going out later and I plan to put a bra on.  (See previous post if you’re confused.)

I have just returned from the local post office where I was sending off a package. Just as I was handing it over, the post office clerk looked at me with amusement and said: “Your top has fallen down.” I looked down at my cleavage with horror. Unfortunately, I was still wearing the camisole top I was wearing in bed last night.  And I had no bra on. Watch out for clips of CCTV footage on YouTube entitled “Braless Woman Shocks Post Office Clerk.” God, I hate the menopause.

Good news, readers! Yesterday I went swimming and I remembered to see to my bikini line! The bad news is – it was only when I was having my pre-swim shower that I realised I still had my reading glasses on my head. Still, that was not quite potentially as bad as Wednesday when, after I had started up the engine on my car and was just to pull-out from the garage, I remembered I hadn’t actually paid for my petrol. It is possibly that sometime in the next couple of years I may be arrested for something that I have no idea of what I have done. Please God, I hope it is not shoplifting. Please.

Ladies, I know you will share this moment of ultimate horror with me… Yesterday, I went swimming for the first time for several weeks. I walked leisurely along the side of the pool which was full of children, parents and a few foolhardy swimmers, like myself, who were prepared to brave the onslaught to our ears. I lowered myself into the pool and began to swim at a gentle pace, blotting out the noise and relaxing after a few fraught weeks. And then, dear readers, I had my moment of ultimate horror. I realised I had forgotten to shave my bikini line.

So, as usual, I am spending the summer holidays on the tennis circuit. This year has been slightly different as last week Master Benedict got the chance to play at Wimbledon in a national U14 tournament. He reached the last sixteen of the singles and won the doubles title 6 – 4,  6 – 1. Being only 13, if he gets through the qualifying rounds next year, he will get a chance to compete again. I’m looking forward to him taking on the might of the LTA sponsored kids and seeing just what he can do at the next level. My boys, Jacob and Ben, now hold nine county titles and one national title between them but, despite Jacob being no 1 in our county almost consistently since the age of nine and Ben since the age of seven, in all that time they have only received £300 of funding

So it’s the early hours of Sunday morning and, as I have insomnia, I have been occupying my time by reading the news over at The Guardian. Yes, I’ve been trying to take-in some big words and long sentences over at the Guardian. Toughen myself up enough so I can open-up Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall without gulping. So anyway over at The Big G they’ve got some high profile writers giving their views on whether the Scots should vote aye or nay to stay in the union. (You folks abroad may not know but, in the autumn, the Scots are voting on whether they want to still hold hands with the rest of the UK – or whether they just want to do it discreetly behind the bike sheds.) Anyway I thought it was appropriate that some lesser known folks i.e –  me and a few of my buddies should