We're going on "holiday". I use the quotation marks as I think it's going to be 6 days of unadulterated torture. My mother turns 60 on Tuesday and has arranged for her side of the family plus hangers on to come up to a big house in Northumberland (Wife in the North territory). She has already started huffing about not everyone going for the whole week, people bailing at the last minute, arrangements for food... I think she might end up gagged and bound in the cellar of the house while everyone else enjoys the peace and quiet.
We're going via Wales though to spend some time with family friends (in fact, the people who own Buddy's parents) on Saturday - D is my most long-standing friend. Many, many years ago, Buddy's predecessor also came from this family, and we traipsed from the South coast all the way up to deepest, darkest Mid-Wales (mile and three-quarter long no-through road - they live at the end of it) in February half-term when there was snow everywhere and met this lovely warm, welcoming family in a paradise setting. D and I hit it off - her birthday is a few days after mine so we are the same age, apart from the fact that she only gets a birthday every 4 years. D's Mum turns 60 exactly a week after mine does. So they are doing the sensible thing of throwing a barbecue so everyone can turn up for it and then leave rather than having to be in a pressure cooker environment for 6 whole, long, painful excruciating days.
I sense that bad things will happen. As there is precious little chance of me getting near an internet connection for a week, like Mal, I will be very quiet for a week, but will no doubt have some emotional battle-scars for show and tell when we get back on Saturday.
Adieu!
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