This morning I threw my windows wide to greet the beautiful day. Pleased that catastrophic ash plume has managed to kick start summer. Every ash cloud, it seems, really does have a silver lining.
Understand that Michael O’Leary of Ryan Air infamy is struggling to see said silver lining. Since we have a perfectly serviceable volcano going begging, think that someone should make good use of it and throw the greedy bastard in.
Rummaged around in the ironing pile for half an hour (which is my equivalent of what Cosmo calls, ‘storage for my summer wardrobe’). My efforts yielded a couple of tops that I wouldn’t be seen dead in and must, clearly, have been legless when I bought, a dress with a very questionable stain down the front and two pairs of cargo pants that achieved the double whammy of being both too short and too tight. Don’t nobody tell me that I’m not livin’ the dream.
Tempted the Teenager out of his lair (via text) by promising to finally buy him the Grand Theft Auto game, told Annabelle to put the fish back into the tank and get dressed as we were off out for the day.
Took them to the riverside where there are tennis courts, basketball courts, ice cream vans, a lake and a bumper sized kid’s playground. Apart from one unfortunate incident involving the teenager, an elderly (but surprisingly eloquent) gentleman and a motability scooter, the afternoon went off without a hitch. I didn’t see what happened but the Teenager claimed that it wasn’t his fault and that he thought there must have been something wrong with the man’s ‘seeing aids’.
Came home to find ex-husband Andy waiting in his car, the replacement has apparently kicked him out.
He informed me of this while pulling a very large bag out of the boot. I can only hope the very large bag contains the replacement’s body and not what I suspect may be enough clothing to last for about a month.