Shoulda woulda coulda

I should have gone downstairs to the sofa after 20 minutes of Mr B's snoring, then I would have been asleep before midnight and could have had more than two hours sleep.

We should have thought more about the wisdom of driving to Spain this morning, then we would have chosen any one of the three airports with routes to London that we drove by in the dark and could have all had more sleep.

I should have had my phone out at the start of the flight then I would have been able to take a picture of the snowy Pyrenees caressed by the first blush of dawn and could have spared you a shot of a shopping centre.

But then as shopping centres go, it's a rather fine one and Katherine and I were rather taken with this growing wall which reminded me of something blipped from Barcelona not so long ago. So, we made it. We were, in fact, unusually early at the airport so no cause for panic at all. The bus/train/tube/bus/walk journey to our destination was never going to be a joy, but it passed. After a quick nap, we figured we might as well get the shopping over with when we were all already grumpy and too tired to do anything fun. And so Katherine was dragged from shop to shop proclaiming she didn't like anything. Happily I did, so it wasn't a wasted trip. And Katherine wasn't sick on the plane (she discovered airsickness last year to add to the air pressure ear woes she already had). To distract her from her ills we went through a bunch of music on her ipod and discovered she only likes 80s music and the Killers.

More sense will be made tomorrow. Maybe.