Sleep Comes Like A Drug

Is a U2 lyric I believe.

And how I need a good sleep.

Vic and India haven't been too well for the last few days -- India's been a nightmare through the night -- and with the addition of an illegal rave just 200 yards from our house on Sunday morning (2.30 am through to 9.00 am), I'm bushed.

The "India not sleeping for longer than 30 mins before screaming" thing is probably because she's teething. It may also be because she's hungry or unwell. And the "waking up at 5.00 am" thing is probably because it's getting light outside and we don't have a black-out blind on her window.

Vic's buying a black-out blind this afternoon. I'm buying a new baby.


The illegal rave -- I'm sure the full story will be on thamenews.net any day -- was held in an empty warehouse in the Industrial Estate across the way. It wasn't like the good old days of Acid House [cue sound of whistles] I can assure you. We had the same baseline for 6 and a half hours. The baseline could be heard over 2 miles away. Nobody called the police. Biut then again, what can Thame's TWO police officers realistically do with 200 drunk and drugged-up swampies?

Coz that's what they were. Swampies.

I took a walk out at 9.00 am to see the aftermath and get a paper. The party peeps weren't the happy-go-lucky, brightly coloured, E-powered love prophets of illegal raves gone by. They were crusty, pale-looking, combat-trouser wearing crusties who looked downright miserable.

Apart from one couple who gave me, India (in her pushchair) and the two coppers a cheery wave from their car on departure.

India gave them the V sign.


Side story about Swampy: THE Swampy -- the one who lived in a hole under the route of the planned Newbury bypass -- went out with Rachel for a time. Rachel and Robin had their baby last week -- Daisy arrived safe and sound. Congratulations R&R!