My Aunt’s cat doesn’t take well to strangers ~ even though (s)he somewhat invaded their lives, and despite “officially” living round the corner, spends most of his/her time at my Aunt’s.
I was sat in my Aunt’s usual spot when P-Cat decided they’d clamber on me and inspect my face and own me.
My Aunt suggested that she’d come down to London for brunch and we’d go to Dishoom in King’s Cross. She’d been before and loved it. I’d looked at the menu and thought a bit err, but hey I’d go with it, it’d be nice to see them.
As soon as I walked through the door, I was like “wow … this place is incredible” – it has an old colonial, warehouse, railway station vibe about it. The food is great, although the menu itself undersells the complexity of the food. Definitely going to have a return trip.
Since having my hysterectomy two weeks ago today I’ve been on a do-nothing, rest only and recouperate regime ~ it’s included countless episodes of Frasier Continue reading Recuperating in the Country
Apparently my niece has been wanting to see Wicked since she was about 8yrs old, plaguing her mother with singing to the soundtrack endlessly. So it seemed like a perfect time to tell her that it was completely sold out and couldn’t get tickets for her birthday treat visit to London – because that is perfect parenting / aunting behaviour … But even nicer making her, I mean watching her cry with joy when we told her that we had actually managed to get prime seats.
Continue reading The Wickedest Wicked
I have somewhat forced my sister into making me a scarf, *apparently* not an easy one, she keeps moaning about how hard it is… I think she’s secretly loving it, (might not be). I *might* have politely asked her, on Facebook, to make me one (then others did too… *cough*) ~ it may look rude to the uninitiated, or demanding, but, erm a loving request, I say …
Continue reading The Funniest Text I Ever Wrote (In. My. Head)
So “in theory” the kids got a gingerbread house each. I’m sure you can tell that this house had not been assembled by a 10yr old, no no siree it wasn’t. *Someone* namely my brother, took control of building the house, while the 10yr old sat patiently waiting to be allowed to biscuits and sweets “neatly” … “Neeeeatly!” on the house.
After finally getting my bag off the carousel, I start to well-up as I come through the exit gate and search the masses for my brother and Melissa. After hugs and tears all round my brother announces that instead of staying in Boston for a couple of nights, we’re going to New York baby!! And we’re staying close to Times Square!! Tears turn to screams all round. Off. We. Go!