Tired and Traumatised

I’m not sure how to describe the weekend that has just gone, but if I did I think the word smashed would be most prevalent. Not good for my health, but at the same time good for taking my mind off things. I think that’s the last blow out for a while and it was a memorable one to sign out on. So far I’ve found a hair clip, the birthday cake that Deb was supposed to be taking back with her, and a pound. I’m not sure what the pound was for. Pocket money maybe? I won’t however be running to the local shop for any of those burnt toffee lollipops we had the other night. Or was it the morning? I’m writing this less than an hour after Deb has left for home, and already I’m missing her. I’m bruised and beaten, drained and defeated, tired and traumatised. That’s what a weekend with Debby does to you, and I wouldn’t expect anything different. After two consecutive Saturdays with emotional breakdown this was the perfect tonic. Deb hid the carving knives though, just in case. Thank god I took a day off and didn’t try and write a blog Saturday night, who knows what I might have written.

Friday Night, Saturday Morning.

I won’t be eating much of the cake. That’s a shame, both for me and Debs boys. I might have a slice with the custard I managed to hide, but the smallest slice only. I made a cottage pie type thing for Deb when she arrived Friday night. I only intended to have a small amount, but it tasted so good I ate more than my digestive system can handle at the moment. That’s more than can be said for the food we had when we went out Saturday night. Choosing from an extensive menu is easy for me now – Soup of The Day. Deb had a Sausage and Yorkshire pudding thing with mash mushy peas and gravy. Both were below average. It was worth the muddy walk through the heavy showers to get there though, just for the entertainment. I’m not talking about the band, it was the horde of women of various shapes, sizes and ages, in the pub before heading to a hen party/fancy dress in Town. Let’s just say the most daring and revealing outfits were worn by those who would have been better advised not to do so. Southerners must stand out like a sore thumb, because at one point Deb was dragged from her seat to be included in one of those tasteful photos obligatory on girl’s on a night out. That, combined with the 3 guys with their individual mini man bags made for an entertaining if not cringe worthy couple of hours. We opted to move on before the official entertainment started, I think they were frightened of starting whilst the party girls were still in the bar.  Billed as ‘Soul Trax –  The Men in Black’, both of whom must have been well past their youth when Motown hit the scene in the sixties. Harsh, considering we never even heard them. We headed nearer home, and ended up watching Tyson Fury fight in the local pub, (not literally) whilst the bar staff and most of the customers in the quiet side of the bar enjoyed their Chinese from the local takeaway. The letter ’P’ was the musical choice of the night when we got home. Placebo and Nerina Pallot, before ,peculiarly, P became K with Kasabian. Considering we could have chosen from, among others, The Police, Prodigy, Portishead and Pulp, the choice was excellent. I think I can remember heading for bed, thankfully before dawn, as it was the day before.

The sun shone on Sunday morning allowing a visit to the local garden centre. Despite my gloomy forecast the other day, trees are miraculously turning to their autumn golden brown covering making a lovely sight in the sunshine. It’s amazing what nature can do, turning ragged limp dying leaves of a few days ago into a blanket of colours. Four walks around the garden centre, three outside and one inside, and we were ready to choose. I came away with some winter pansies and chameleon plant, whilst Deb bought lots of other things. She’s the expert and is expected to remember what they’re called – I’m not. She was a little concerned whether they were hardy enough to last the winter, but considering that we were buying from a garden centre almost 2000 feet about sea level and she was transporting them to the warmer climes of South Gloucestershire, I don’t think she’ll have any problems there. Weekends like this are always over too soon, I wished it could have carried on. I’ve been left with a lot to think about, nice thoughts though.

I’ve got two days to kill now before my sister arrives. This will be a bit more genteel which I think I now need before Thursday arrives. It was great to see so many runners supporting cancer charities in the Great North Run yesterday. I also got an email from my sister-in-law, who has decided to enter the BUPA Great Birmingham Run in a few weeks in aid of Cancer Research. She’s not done any training, but is no novice, having done many half marathons. I’ll be publicising her ‘giving page’ once it’s been set up. It’s great that people choose to raise money in this way while the rest of us sit on our backsides. You really do notice these thing when it affects you so personally. Makes me feel guilty in a way in that I’ve not taken notice until now.

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