Tuesday 29 July 2014

We're All Going On A .......

...Summer Holiday.....Yay! But before we do, there was a small celebration to be had, in the way of Daughter No.2's 21st Birthday!!
Now living in London (First Degree Honours Graduate, don't you know!!), said daughter could only travel down on Sunday, for a couple of days. South West Trains had other ideas though, and did their level best to cancel all trains going south from Waterloo. However, not without a little cunning, Daughter No.2 managed to get herself as far as Guildford, where, she was assured by Mr. South West, there would be buses ready (and indeed eager) to carry travellers further along southwards to their desired destination. Oh...Mr. South West.....were you never taught that it is unpleasant to lie???
Unfortunately for most, there were no such buses. Nor bikes. Not even a measly roller skate. Fortunately for one, her Auntie sped to the rescue, scooped up niece and brought her safely home. Hooray hooray!
And so celebrate we did. Obviously brought up with great taste, Daughter No.2's chosen method to celebrate (at least with her mother and grandmother present!) was Full Afternoon Tea in a beautiful country-house hotel nearby. Yum. Yum. Yum.


Many Happy Returns of The Day, Darling Girl. xx
And now it's time to pack up the car and make our way north. Five days camping in Harrogate, where I fully intend to divide my time equally between Betty's Tearooms and The Quilt Museum in York, followed by a few more days camping in Wells-Next-The-Sea. I'm so looking forward to it, and as you can see........


...I'm all packed and ready to go!
See you in a couple of weeks. Take care. xx

Tuesday 15 July 2014

Wasn't Me, Guv...Honest, Guv.....

We've had An Incident. When I say "We", I really mean "The Husband", but I was implicated by default. Or by blatant lie. You decide....
The car, my Trusty Volvo, started playing up. Sort of hiccupping. The Husband was supposed to pick me up from work, and instead I had a phone call informing me that said car may have hicced it's last upp. Bother. In his infinite wisdom, The Husband had removed Homestart from our RAC policy (terrific) so a plan was formed. The Husband would drive the car to the next village, where there is a lovely tea shop, stop for a much needed cuppa, then phone nice Mr RAC Man and get him to tow the car the rest of the way to the garage.
However, The Trusty Volvo didn't want to play the game. It tried VERY hard not to start at all, but The Husband is a canny soul, and forced it into a coughing, hiccupping, spluttering start (of sorts) with the aid of Easy Start spray. Not sure if he'd even get to the end of the road, never mind the next village, The Husband "drove" off. I awaited news. This is what I got....
Husband and Car did make it to the village. The stop at the lovely tea shop did happen. Mr RAC Man was called, and dutifully arrived. All going exceedingly well so far. Now this is where the story gets interesting. Pay attention please.
Mr RAC Man asked a few questions about symptoms which The Husband knew the answers to. Mr RAC Man thought for a moment. Mr RAC Man opened the petrol cap and sniffed. He passed the cap to The Husband, who also sniffed. Cogs began to whirr in The Husbands head. The RAC Man went round to the engine, and repeated the whole sniffing experience, encouraging The Husband to participate fully. Lightbulbs and minor fireworks are now going off in The Husband's head, illuminating memories of his visit, the day before, to the petrol station. And there is the key word. Petrol. The Husband, darling man that he is, had put £40 of petrol into our DIESEL car.
Now, I wish it to be known, that generally, I'm quite a reasonable person, and that up until this point would have brushed the whole thing off as an unfortunate mistake. Until the moment that The Husband turned to Mr RAC Man and said "that would have been my wife....she said she'd put some fuel in yesterday"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND, not content to lie just the once, The Husband compounded it by informing the mechanic at the garage " the wife must have had her head elsewhere". There are not enough exclamation marks on my keyboard at this point.
£280 later and you'll be pleased to hear that the Volvo is Trusty once more. More trustworthy than The Husband, honest guv........
Thank goodness I've got some peaceful hand feathering to soothe me....and prevent me from looking for blunt instruments with which to bludgeon....


xx