Categories: uncategorized
Date: 04 February 2007 20:30:10
I'm writing this with the other three accounts of my weekend stacked up at the top of the blog list, and not having read any of them, so we can present you our three accounts.
Well, Spike suggested, and it seemed good to us, that we would allow Steve and AD to reach the parents' before us so AD could settle at TinaandSteveWorld. Spike and I had a straightforward journey involving two trains and a tube, and arrived at Cambridge station at 12.30 as planned. As we drove away from the station, we asked if the other two had arrived, and Dad said, 'No, not yet.' We got back to the parents', we had a cup of tea. Time passed. The phone rang. I should explain here that AD was driving, and Steve is a wee bit directionally challenged. Cue Mum trying to give directions to someone who had little idea of where they are and was struggling to make sense of Mum's request for information with which to give suitable directions. Mum then wisely suggested speaking to AD, but it transpired that while visiting the petrol station she had had the presence of mind to ask someone. Much hysteria was being had at home, as Steve has spent most of his life in this part of the world and it is a fairly straight run, if you don't miss the turning or if, on missing the turning, you realise and get back onto the right road. Shortly after this phone call, the directionless duo arrived, and the stress of SteveNav led AD into her first backslide of the weekend - photographic evidence of another backslide is on Spike's blog (cos I saw him download - I haven't read the text, honest).
A hasty lunch was had and then I nipped off to see my three-month-old goddaughter-elect and her mum, which left me feeling broody but delighted to see my friend, after so many years being the world's greatest auntie and thinking that was all there would be for her, a relaxed, happy mum enjoying her baby.
I then went home and made use of Mum's ironing board, which unlike ours has all the legs the same length and doesn't wobble, and also of Dad's sellotape for removing the half of my cat's winter coat which had somehow transferred itself onto my trousers.
We had arranged to be picked up by the courtesy minibus to take us to the pub in the next village, which was a smooth journey in the logistics sense, if not in the suspension sense. Yummy food was had, the bus brought us home again and Spike and I headed off to spend the night at Grandad's as it was full house with the parents. Over the night, I developed a strange patch of reddened, sore skin on my ankle and consulted my mum, who's had similar problems before, and AD, who I'd discovered during the course of the evening used to be a nurse. Hence the title of this post. Both gave me the same tentative diagnosis, so I'm taking my ankle to the doc's in the morning and will let you know how accurate the medical opinion was.
After a breakfast cooked by yours truly (who doesn't do cooked breakfasts often) and Grandad (who does them regularly but usually only for himself, and was flustered by the change in routine), with differing opinions as to how much lard is too much (no such thing, according to my grandad), the three of us headed into church. Mum and Dad were upfront in the music group, Dad already sporting one of the many birthday badges he was to receive. The service was lovely, our church at its best, relaxed but with nary a 'Great, Great, Brill, Brill' to be heard. After tea/coffee and a chance to catch up with people we hadn't seen for a while, and in some cases couldn't remember names of, we headed home for a buffet lunch and wended our ways, AD depositing Steve safely at Snorbins to catch his train back to Cadbury World.
I'm now off to read the other blog entries. I understand that not only did Spike post up the incriminating photo of AD's falling off the wagon, but she has posted up the revenge picture taken during Spike's compulsory Sunday-afternoon nap (it was my dad who suggested the resemblance to Mum's cuddly nightdress-case). All in all, it seems AD has settled nicely into the madness of our family, and wasn't too afraid of all us web-footed Fenlanders en masse. Next Steve gets to meet her family. Meeting my family took an overnight stay. Meeting hers is going to be a week's excursion.