Waiting for Gin O'Clock

Cabin fever today. Nipped off out on my own for some cool crisp icy air to deliver something, cut something and visit some people. Those people were Mum and Dad. Which mainly involved me and dad cheekily exchanging v signs to each other (more to wind up mum really) and me then cunningly soothing her disappointment by asking what the origins of the sign was and why is the gesture deemed so offensive....mum knew (of course she did!). The origin of the v sign...french troups goading the English long bowman saying they would remove their bow fingers.

Anyway, I arrived home to find the house deserted. At last! Peace to watch Downton.....I felt like Sauroman as I wielded sole power over the remote control....there can be only one, oh, wait, that's Highlander. Anyway, alas they came back 10 minutes later. I felt like Gollum, cheated.

Word got out this year that while I hate Gin, (flowersis are yukises, as Gollum would say), 2014 was the year I discovered I love raspberry gin, mixed with prosecco, thanks to the bad influence of a work colleague. Last Christmas's wine clock has been replaced by shop bought and home made presents of raspberry liqueur gin. Fate has conspired to not let me make a go of it for a few days yet, but looking forward to when I do.