I hope your Easter was filled with lusciousness, chocolate and a failure to see rabbits. I know it is traditional to see/think about rabbits at Easter, but ever since my grandmother adopted a killer rabbit called Peter who used to bite your ankles and scare even our cat witless, I have not been a fan.
Rather like Anya from Buffy, for any fellow geeks out there.
It is nearly two in the morning dearest ones. My husband, after a long weekend with us which involved quite a lot of Malteser bunnies, flew back to Berlin in the early hours of the morning. I have been rather like a cat on a hot tin roof since then.
It is not to say that the day has not been pleasurable. It has, apart from the taking squillions of parcels to the post office bit, and being sworn at by an evil pensioner, who failed to take into account the fact that I had split my parcels into three, smaller lots, and I was already half way through my third lot when he popped up behind me in an otherwise empty post office. He was no respecter of the time honoured and entirely British tradition of queueing either, preferring instead to hover at my elbow, muttering and trying to jab a Post Office Savings book full of twenty pound notes into my left ear whilst bobbing up and down.
When this failed to move me, or the lady behind the counter, and he caught sight of the parcels still left to be weighed, lurking on the floor by my feet, he did a nifty pirouette for a man who looked in imminent need of a hip replacement, and said: ‘Jesus Fucking Christ! I’m not waiting any fucking longer. Jesus Christ!’ and stormed off.
Given that he was only resurrected a short while ago, and was probably still having to get used to being able to have more super powers than normal, I doubt Jesus had time to come to Earl Shilton Post Office to smite me, or turn me into a fish, so you know, I WON and all that.
I quite enjoyed making steam come out of that gentleman’s ears. He certainly impressed the children with both his dexterity and his vocabulary.
Apart from bothering the ageing population of Leicestershire, we have been out for lunch with granny and granddad and uncle Robber, at which point the children ate desserts as big as their own faces and then spent the rest of the afternoon running around like lunatics, out of their minds on sugar. I did think I should have saved my parcels for after lunch and then let the children loose in the Post Office once the sugar rush had hit. That would really have put the wind up my grumpy pensioner friend. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.
There is always next time.
My friend, Aunty Squirrel, who I have not seen for a bajillion years, finally managed to make it round to our house this evening for a cuppa or two, which was rather lovely. I am hoping to squeeze in seeing a few more friends before the holiday ends, small children and random parenting allowing.
I have spent the rest of the evening wrapping parcels and making random bids on things on EBay due to the fact that I got rather into the habit of buying things yesterday when I visited Malvern flea and antiques market with mum and dad and the thrill of purchasing things and unwrapping rather than wrapping has not yet worn off.
As predicted by everyone who knows me, I bought some more pictures. I know I owe you a gallery tour, and it will come, but there just do not seem to be enough hours in the day for me to get my act together with brain, eye, camera and intent all aligned.