Wednesday, 29 January 2014


It was my intention to write a post for today last night.  There is little excuse other than working all day when I was already tired and then being stuffed full of food by my mum and dad.

I normally visit my mum at least once a week and always on a Sunday morning; it has become our ritual.  When Hubby is working over a weekend or as my mum puts it 'working because I forced him to' I still visit my parents on a Sunday.

Except when things come in three's, as my mum is always saying, I kind of didn't expect it to mean having to spend a lot of money three times; fixing an oil leak, having a new gate and the fences strengthened; and getting the tumble dryer repaired.  Which in theory doesn't stop me visiting my mum, after all she lives on the next road so it is not as if I have huge travel expenses to take into account.  No, it shouldn't except two of those job were being done on a Sunday morning.

Then travelling with work and lots of tasks, reports and products to produce got in the way of visiting my parents during the weekday evenings - pesky work!  

Anyhoo, Hubby suggesting calling them and asking if we could visit and have dinner with them.  Now, here is where I have had a problem.  My sister is used to calling them and inviting herself for tea.  She has done it for years and years.  Me?  No, I never did because I thought it was rude.  There I said it.  I thought it was rude to invite myself to my mum and dad's for dinner.  Except mum started saying I should.  So I did, and felt sick and awful doing it the first time.  Now I have to work myself up to it so although I know that guilty feeling is coming I am prepared for it.  Stupid right?  I mean after all my mum told me to do it but it still feels wrong.

So we trollied on round yesterday; not just me and Hubby but Beautiful B and Ry as well.  Beautiful B actually said she didn't want a sweet because her sides were sore she was that full.  No such luck with me; after all I am getting that fat I can fit anything in.  Probably even a whole tiny baby, or toddler.....

So add being food tired to already being tired and you imagine I was shattered.  What is food tired? Oh that is easy; it's that feeling you get after Christmas Dinner - you know, when you have had that much to eat you are guaranteed to fall asleep as soon as you sit down with the family to watch television repeats in the afternoon.  

On returning home Hubby proclaimed he was watching football and so I left him downstairs to shout at the television and tucked myself in bed to watch 2 Broke Girls and an episode of 1 Man, 3 Women - the life of a Mormon  or some similar title.  Each to their own but I have to say that I didn't see one women who appeared to be happy with her lot in life.  You know, sharing the husband you love with at least one other woman.  That is a receipe for disaster in my book.  But my book is quite small, with limited experiences so what the hell do I know!

I then started watching a programme on Amish teenagers taking themselves off to Los Angeles or somewhere similar and was asleep in 5 minutes.  It might have been me but that programme appears very staged and I suspect would annoy me if I actually managed to stay awake to watch it all.

So the moral of the story is when you go to your childhood home to eat with your family make sure you are not already tired because you will be after approximately 90 minutes when you have eaten too much of your mum's gorgeous food.

Later today I have telekit to discuss the agenda for a team away day at work - I even told my boss that I distinctly don't remember volunteering myself for it and one of my team colleagues agreed with me.  No reply from him yet so he has obviously decided that if he keeps quiet I will get involved anyway even though I have enough work already.  Now there is the main problem of going to work with your mentor of 8 years; they know you too darn well!

Happy Wedensday every one.

I am thinking of doing a 5 Things Friday this week - anyone any suggestions on what I should twitter write about?


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  2. I thrive on chaos. My desk looks a mess, but I know where every thing is.

  3. I get stressed when I need to tidy things up. I blame my dad, he is ex-army and so I grew up conditioned to be tidy. Not sure what happened to my sister who grew up in the same house; I think she rebelled as she is the complete opposite. x