Tenth Night

A bit of a plumbing emergency at the mother-in-laws put paid to the planned lazy last day of the holidays. As is normally the case with these type of visits the plumbing was supplemented by a follow up telephone repair and a look at some minor decorating jobs.

Weather nowhere near as wild as yesterday but I spotted this chap fighting his way up the hill against the wind and the rain with his carton of milk. Against the post-cheer/pre-misery fairy lights of the houses up ahead I there was a sharply dreich contrast and I thought, "that'll be me tomorrow".

Oh the joy.

Samantha went back today (mistakenly turned up an hour early for her shift mind you, potentially to catch up with all things internet related, only to find the internet at her work has been down for a week; www.google.com - define: irony) and reported that it was good to get back into a routine.

Part of that routine seems to involves healthy eating according to the strict orders not to cook anything for her return and how she would prepare something for us all. All well and good, but I'm sitting here watching an evening of cooking programmes panning out in front of me in the portly shape of the Hairy Bikers, the aerodynamic shape of Heston Blumenthal and the cloned shapes of the Baker Brothers. That's not going to help at all. Going to have to watch all those guilt inducing Weightwatchers/Slimming World adverts to balance it all out.