Intervention

 The Silver Vixen and Cousteau-Cub went across to Portsmouth last night in order to see Giovanni Pernice's show. The Gorse Fox was left as butler to both Ellie and Jasper. Jasper was not amused and he took himself off to our bedroom where he sulked until the Silver Vixen returned. Ellie, despite threatening mischief, went straight to bed and was asleep within seconds. The Gorse Fox retired to the lounge and watched TV while keeping an eye on the Silver Vixen's location. This proved interesting when she left the show. She followed the Satnav but found access to the Motorway was closed and ended up headed west towards Fareham instead of east towards Chichester. A quick about-face at Fareham saw her heading back on the correct road and, after dropping Cousteau-Cub and Chichester, she was home before 23:30.

There was an intervention in the Gorse Fox's dream. The patter of tiny feet and a nudge from Ellie was followed by "Grandpa, how long is it until my clock turns yellow?" Grandpa looked at his watch. "Ellie, it is 5:39, there are 50 more minutes to wait. Go back to bed and go to sleep" and, to be fair to her, she did.

Ellie was eager to get to school today. She was up and ready in plenty of time and she was among the first to rush in when the doors opened. The Silver Vixen and Gorse Fox strolled home and had some breakfast. The Silver Vixen got on with various chores during the morning. The Gorse Fox caught up on the accounts and then returned to the formatting and editing of blog extracts.

After lunch, we sat down with our books until it was time to collect Ellie. She had had a good day at school and had several stickers to show for her efforts. When we arrived home, she sat down to do some homework. This was all going well until she had to write a sentence terminating with a question mark. She went into a meltdown. She claimed she just can't do question marks and ran off crying. The Gorse Fox asked her to write the number 2. Then the number 2 without a tail, but with a dot under it. He pointed out that this was a question mark. Not good enough, apparently. This was a battle we were not going to win tonight. It was about this time that Urban-Cub arrived to collect her, on her way back from work.