My Hands Smell of Potatoes...

So it's Mothering Sunday; the day in which children run around after their mother that little bit more, before going back to refusal of chores and control of the TV remote the next morning. I bought mum a prayer stome, but chore-wise this year I have cleaned my room, and that takes a good few hours believe me. I also decorated mum's food to look like a face for breakfast, a butterfly for lunch and a heart for dinner. However we hand Neeps and Tatties and my hands now smell of potatoes.

Oh yeah, our drake is finally being a man and treading the ducks, he is a bit slow but that is what we can expect after naming him Sheldon; and my tortoise Soya decided to become Gandalf with a bit of lettuce.