Tipple

This was the scene we left behind this morning. Glorious, isn’t it?

With the power still not returned following the “Blackout! Blackout!” we woke up cold, stinky and without the customary morning brew delivered by my father – can’t remember the last time that happened.

Knowing that to linger any longer than necessary would result in grumpy children and therefore grumpy me (particularly in the absence of a morning brew or shower), we were up and out in record time and jumped in the car to warm up. My parents were fine by the way and went back to my sister’s house. 

The drive back up north was rather lively coming out the other side of the M6 toll road and we marvelled at the blizzards, high winds (sorry, it was a nerve-wracking drive) and rain which lashed against the car from every conceivable angle. Fortunately, we made it home safe and sound and the wee ones were deposited with their mother in time for their Grandpa’s 70th shindig, whilst the Eldest was returned to her home for some quality time with herself before work tomorrow.

As for me, what to do with a bonus free Saturday night? Well, I snuck in a power nap and then headed back out to brave the elephants (sic) for good wine, amazing tapas and fruity cocktails. I’m a recent convert to a “Zombie” which was served with flaming absinthe floating on a little passion fruit island, which you blow out and knock back. It was gooooood.

I have recently discovered that my hangovers are vastly reduced when I’ve had cocktails, so I’m going to keep having them (considering day drinking too), but so help me if it comes up without an umbrella or a piece of fruit stuck to the side and it’s not on fire or doesn’t have a roman candle sticking out of it somewhere, I’ll have no part of it.