This year Katie's best friend is at a new school. They have both managed well and are making new friends. Part of their ease is due to their clever mummies' plan to get them together every week. Actually, credit all goes to the other girl's mummy, because it was her idea and she does all the work. I just go along with it.

The idea is to take all three girls (yep, she takes Buffy as well!) ice skating. Buffy doesn't go yet, but does enjoy quality time with one of her favourite people. Katie goes to a separate beginner's lesson while her friend, a very talented skater, has private lessons. Before these lessons Katie had only been ice skating twice and had progressed to the point I didn't panic when she put on her roller blades.

Following the last lesson, Katie came home showing off a sign-off book. It seems she'd completed all of the requirements for her Level 1 certificate. Cool!

Oh wait, she's also completed all of the requirements for Level 2.

And Level 3.

She is one signature away from her Level 4, too!

Whilst we are immensely proud of Katie, we are presented with a bit of a conundrum. See, when she started, she wanted a pretty skating outfit. I put her off, because I wasn't sure she'd stick with ice skating. I thought it might be a good incentive. Maybe in a year or two. Yes, that sounded good. She could have her pretty, impractical skating outfit once she had completed her...

wait for it...

Level 3!

I guess we're going shopping.

In France I bought Buffy a t-shirt that reads, "I love so much". We think this captures Buffy's essence perfectly. She loves so many things so much!

Tonight I was brushing her teeth and she kept chatting to me through the toothpaste bubbles, "I love you more! I love Daddy and Katie more! And I love my friends. I love my family and my friends MORE!"

I asked, "More than what?"

She replied, "God. More than God. But I love God, too. I love God so much! I really love him."

I said, "Or her."

She asked, "What?"

I said, "Or her. God could be a 'her', we don't really know."

She shook her head vigourously, "NO! God is a he. I know it!"

"How do you know it?"

"Because I have seen him!"

"You've seen God?"

She said, "Yes. I've seen God many times."

"Oh really? What does God look like?"

Big grin. "He's got a really long stinging tail and two big stinging teeth!"

So Labour has a new strategy - try to embarrass the Conservatives. Their preferred weapon of choice is Daniel Hannan, UK MEP and darling of the American right, who has a rather amusing habit of saying incredibly sensible and completely batty things - often in the same sentence. Like so much of what Labour chooses to do, their plan is stupid:

(1) Every time the media refers to the latest thing Hannan has said (today's utterance is that he apparently admires Enoch Powell - yeah, well so what, one can admire someone without endorsing absolutely every statement they ever made), they have to remind us precisely who he is. And Hannan is still most famous as the man who eloquently and effectively made Gordon Brown cry when he tore strip after strip off the one-eyed Jock bastard in a European Parliament speech. So that's the clip they use. Not quite the message Labour wanted to endorse, methinks.

(2) Even worse, Hannan is very useful to Cameron. Hannan's extreme views on certain issues will make him very appealing to wavering Conservative voters who might be thinking of voting UKIP because they think Cameron is a Tony Blair wannabe. Seeing Hannan might be enough to keep them in the fold. Yet Cameron can easily dismiss Hannan as a 'mad aunt in the attic' sort of character. He's not an MP, he's an MEP, so it's possible to pretend he's not a Conservative while quite obviously allowing him to be one.

I rather suspect that in drawing attention to Hannan, Labour are playing with fire. You play with matches, you get burned.

So, the site of the Climate Change Camp is Blackheath.

This will truly put all their sustainability rhetoric to the test. They had better clean up every single last piece of litter behind them, or they will be exposed as a bunch of middle-class, pampered, spoiled jumped-up hypocritical brats.

I hereby pledge that if they don't clean up behind themselves to my satisfaction, I shall drown a panda in toxic waste to teach them all a lesson.

That said, I'm also mindful of the awful violence at yesterday's football match between West Ham and Millwall. It's vital that we find a way to neutralise the tensions between these teams' supporters and reconcile their differences.

I propose that we achieve this by finding them a common enemy, against which all supporters can unite. And what do football fans hate more than other teams' football fans?

That's right - hippies. So let's get all the fans down to Blackheath so they can k--k the s--t out of some climate change protesters.

In the name of peace, naturally.

With three days to go the Unbirthday party is now going to happen whether we want it or not. I have enough juice, roses, cakes for most of the kids to have a decent time. I have guest gifts for half of them, packs of cards for everyone. At the very least, we can sit around and play Snap. We could also make crepe paper roses, because both Katie and I can knock those out pretty well now. I think what I really need is some sleep!

G'night!

Katie and Buffy are watching Total Wipeout, which I think is called Wipeout in the States. It's a bunch of comparatively sporty people flinging themselves across a giant inflated obstacle course over pools of thick, oozing mud. They usually spend more time in the mud than leaping the obstacles above. Buffy, on her first ever viewing of the show, has been offering advice to the competitors, "No! You've got to hold on! Slow down! Be careful! Look out!"

Enjoying her commentary very much, Andrew said, "You tell 'em, Buffy!"

To which our cheeky little girl quipped, "I can't tell them, Daddy! THEY'RE ON TV!"