Lovely week

My cousin Clea is up in the North East from Godalming and she’s been staying with Mum, so I’ve been staying too to get our suppers etc. We had my signature dish of mince and dumplings on Tuesday evening, a little later than Mum is used to eating. Yesterday morning (Wednesday) Mum had one of her “Doctor Anderson likes to see me” appointments. These are regular sessions which Mum attends because, and I’m quoting verbatim here; “Dr. Anderson likes to have a little chat.” Dr. Anderson has the patience of a saint. I telephoned my brother last night for a general moan about HIS mother, and relayed to him the following conversation I’d had with HIS mother, in the waiting room of Grange Road Medical Practice.
Mum, “What time will you be in tonight?”
Me, “It will be after six.”
Mum, “Oh God that means we’ll be eating really late again.”
Me, “Yes, that’s because I’m sitting here with you and I’m not going to work until ten, which in turn means I have to stay until six, so yes I will be late.”
Mum, “I hate eating late, it gives me indigestion.”
She still doesn’t like her new Ray Ban specs because apparently the Ray Ban logo on the side isn’t prominent enough. If you see her in the Co-Op for God’s sake mention the Ray Bans, it will make my life so much easier.  eyes

Clea arrived with her husband David and their two daughters on Monday night in a hired camper van. It was a right old disaster because the plan was for David to drop Clea off, and then he and the girls were continuing on to Glasgow for the Commonwealth games. Unfortunately when the owners of the van were checking the levels of bits of things in the engine, or whatever it is you do, they forgot to put a crucial bit of thing back into place leading to the van breaking down. Clea and David got as far as Ryton, where the camper will remain until the AA turn up to tow it from whence it came. Brighton in Sussex. It meant that David had to hire a car and rent a flat for the duration of his stay in Glasgow with his girls, but they did at least get to see some of the netball and hockey. They returned last night with brightly painted St. George’s crosses on their faces looking very tired but happy. At the time of writing England have 107 medals.

David will be travelling home with the AA, and Clea and the girls are getting the train, which is a drag for them but great for me because I get to see them for longer. Heather and I both have tomorrow off to spend some time with them, and also because Ted our decorator is coming in the morning to repair all damaged caused by our kitten Vi. Actually she’s not a kitten anymore; she’s three and had to go for her boosters last week. Heather didn’t have a very happy day. Furious at having to go inside the cat basket Vi struggled and scratched Heather on the hand, then upon arriving at the vet’s somewhat worse for wear, Heather received a lecture on Vi’s weight. She is a bit on the porky side I suppose. Here she is eyeing up a blackbird in our back yard. What do you reckon?

Does my bum look big in this?