I get the impression

that maybe Suc was trying to tell me something, as I packed our bag at 2am this morning. Then when I got into bed, he came and settled down on my legs and would not move for love nor money. He stayed there all night and only moved when the boys got up this morning.

Early dart to the airport, there by ten. Rachel's inquisitive nature and my forward planning in doing online check-in for the return journey, meant that we barely had to queue. Passport control was not the traumatic experience it had been at Manchester (where I was frisked quite thoroughly), and despite the airport being HUGE we managed to get to gate and board promptly. All so efficient at the Mallorcan end. Lovely.

Luggage collected, made it to the train. Transferred at Manchester Oxford Road. Chivalry is definitely dead - not one person offered to help me as I struggled onto the train with two bags and James. Harumph!

Two cups of tea later, and I have unpacked, loaded the photos onto the computer, done a first 'sift' to see which ones I am going to adopt as my favourites for the holiday, put some washing on and resisted the urge for a siesta as I know that would mean me not waking up till tomorrow morning.

Glad to be back home with Corin, but I will miss the funny, sad, hilariously frank moments that Rach and I have shared in front of the fire with red wine, and tea, after the children had gone to bed.

I echo what Rach has said to Joe - I'd not have met her, or a number of others, without this site - but I have, and I am lucky to have some wonderful, genuine friends (who are pretty talented too) as a result.

Off to take my boys out for tea - I'm not cooking!