Homeward Bound and All Around!

In response to an earlier mention to myself, I have said on several occasions, I often don't know where some of the images used on this blog have come from, and I am happy to quote sources if someone has found it. For those I do know of, I will/have source/d them. I respect challenges to copyright and ownership of images on my blog.

Anyway, enough of the toodoodlement jargon, time for a catchup. (I am at this moment being an ubernerd, sat beside Him on my laptop; He's on His.)

Friday, I got the first of my day's holidays. Spent most of it on the train. Woo!
Wound my leisurely way back Oop Narf home, for my darling Nan's 50th Wedding Anniversary! ('Gratz to you both.) Spent most of the evening with my somethingsomethingdistantlyrelated cousin Vicki trying to kick either grandparent out of the bloomin' hall kitchens and make them go back out to their party. Bless em. Good food though.

Hopping back out of the car, it was so cold and so wet, both of my feet went into spasm and all the muscles simultaneously locked up, leaving me stranded in the porch quite literally unable to move. Between the gasps of agony and whimpers of owie, it was very funny. Managed to get the phone so that He could sympathetically (????) laugh at me. Hmmmm.

Saturday - I slept. A lot. And ate chocolate for breakfast. Last night's leftovers for lunch. And dinner. And supper... And breakfast again the next day. However, I did spend most of the day in town, buying myself a rather pretty singing bowl. And then most of the evening playing very, very bad pool. Yay! In fact, I lost at a game of Worsts. (Where you have to play deliberately badly, but not overly obviously.)

Sunday - Spent the day with various family members, my grandfather proudly showing off his handmade tin trains, my grandmother delighted with her Christmas present, the cats just happy to chew me, and singing to my mother's chicken gravy again.

The Christmas lights are as retarded as they were last year, and Himself got uh, treated to the sound via phonecall, including my mother beating the soundbox against the floor to make it go past the first three bars. He's now making an odd noise describing the intriguingly pathetic decline of quality. And because it's not often I get home, my birthday was thrown into the mix - another family oddity He was treated to. Let me explain: my mother's side of the family have their own... unique variant on the Happy Birthday Song. Simply put, everyone starts when they feel like, sings to whatever tune they feel like, and as badly as they like. The overall effect is horrendous, but supremely good fun. I could hear Him falling about laughing on the other end of the line. Seems to take most things in His stride - well done!

Catch you in a bit, I've just been presented with toast... MMMMmmm

"Bippety boppety booooooo" - Dan. I assume that's in retaliation to my Scrub's Bob Kelso quote: *skiddly-dee, skiddly-doo*