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By Robyn Claire-Louise Anderson in General Published: Sunday, 08 July 07 - 08:07 PM (GMT) Last Updated: Saturday, 14 July 07 - 11:46 AM (GMT) |
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The weekend started off as a bit of a muddle. After having seen all the parents I needed to see at school in a record time of 1 hour and 30 minutes, I managed to get home for just after 18h00 on Friday. Roger (for the first time since we had our kitchen fixed in 2005) had made some supper - lasagne and garlic bread, so we settled down to swallow it quickly so that I could be at the pick up point for the Harrier bus at 18h30.
Three and a half bites into my food, the phone rang. Steve B on the other end wondering where I was for the 18h15 pick up! So Roger rushed me off to Poachers (where Gordan and Mick had decided to have a pint while they all waited for me), and a fast farewell was said wishing Roger best for the Saunders Mountain Mararthon that he was about to set off for.
To cut a long story a little shorter, we all had a great time, despite the iffy beer at Robin Park. Many many pints were later had at Robin Hood in Billinge before setting off for home in the wee hours of Saturday morning.
John G was fab, driving around 15 livelybodies and he even dropped me home right on The Drive... Where I suddenly realised that I didn't have any house keys and Roger away till Sunday evening.
The lads and Eileen were nervous about leaving me, but I knew that my neighbours would be more than happy to look after me for the night, and, true to form, I stumbled into Stacey on her way back from fetching more wine to take to some other neighbours (by this time it must have been about 02h00). We ended up having even more beer before finally falling asleep, me in next doors loft, tired but happy.
The followiong morning I got up earlier than I wanted to so that I wouldn't miss my other neighbours, who I knew had a spare key to our house. Once home, I phoned Bob, who wasn't in, to ask him to give me a shout when he wanted to go motorbike shopping. Fortunately he never got the message, and I went back to sleep till 14h30, too scared to move my pounding head in case my brains exploded.
The rest of the weekend took on a more sensible and sober stance. I went over to Carol's at about 16h30 for a braai where I only drank Innocent Smoothies and felt positively puritanical watching the beer come and go in everyone elses glasses.
Later that evening when everyone decided to set off for a club in Preston, I retired home, to G.K. Chesteron's Father Ted and a mug of Green Tea.
As a result, I woke up feeling considerably better than I had the previous morning and set off on my bicycle to help Joe marshal the Run Preston road races. I met up with Bob who was marshalling the point next to mine, so we had a chance to catch up between directing traffic and cheering runners on.
It rained, of course. We have come to expect little else of the weather. But, later in the afternoon, by the time I had become resigned to being drenched and muddy in the garden, the sun did come out. Just enough to dry me out and make weeding and backfilling the trench in the front a more pleasant task.
Roger and Pete came back from the Lakes looking tanned and happy (it didn't rain there...) despite not having beaten Karen and Rowena (even though I did try gain them some advantage by breaking Karen's ribs a few weeks earlier)!
I think I might have finally caught up on all my lost sleep of the previous weeks with Saturday morning's mammoth lie in. Tomorrow is due to be less rainy and there might even be a spot of sun and I only have 5 more sleeps till school breaks up for the "summer".
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