Ready at Last

Friday was a bit of a blur, packing, getting the car ready and filling it with fuel as well as last minute shopping. By 7.30pm everything was packed, the house was a tidy as I could manage and I tucked myself into bed to get some sleep before the long drive to Cornwall. I planned to get up at 2am so I needed a very early night. I'd not heard from Robbie but Laura was on standby to pick him up if he managed to get home without incident.

The call of the bathroom woke me up at midnight and as I sleeply emerged from the bathroom Robbie came bounding up the stairs wearing some new PJ bottoms, they had Batfink on them and they were startling to say the least. I went back to bed and reluctantly got up again at 2am. Robbie was still up, he was too scared to go to be because he knew he wouldnt get up again. I had to hurry him along because he was still running on Irish time and at that speed the holiday would be over before we got there!

I packed the flasks and food for the journey, then I packed the final items into the car while Robbie downed tools and made himself a bacon sandwich (at 3am!). Finally Laura and Sam and I were ready in the car and after sitting in the car waiting for Robbie for what seemed like hours we drove off towards Cornwall. By the time we reached the end of our road everyone else was asleep and I was left with an increasingly stressy sat nav for company. I knew the best way to go and each time I ignored the sat nav I could hear the edge in her voice as she announced that she was "recalculating".

Train to the North and Back Again

I have got another horrible cold and my breathing really hurts. On Saturday morning I woke up feeling sorry for myself after a very bad night. Robbie was away 'plating trains' so I rang him to remind him that I want to be cremated not buried! The they had made a very early start and rail tour was well under way heading toward Blackpool, Robbie was concerned that I felt rotten and he offered to come home. I gratefully accepted his offer and he was left stuttering and spluttering trying to think of a convincing reason why he couldn't come home. I didn't really expect him to come home, but I couldn't resist making him squirm. I dosed myself up and got on with my jobs which included taking Sam to his friend's party and doing some food shopping. The party was at a go carting circuit which must be run by the secret services because it is so badly signposted that we couldn't find it and everybody was half an hour late.

I spoke to Robbie later on Saturday evening and he assured me that he would get home as quickly as he could in the morning because he was worried about me. Sunday morning dawned and by 10am I still had not heard from him so I rang him, he said he had just woken up and he was sitting up in bed enjoying a cup of coffee. He told me that he would be on his way home after breakfast. By 3pm I was starting to wonder when he would be back, I rang again and he said he had just finished his breakfast and was having a coffee – he hadn't even started his journey! He finally got home at about 7pm and he was still talking about his wonderful breakfast – what is it about Robbie that makes everyone want to feed him? On the way back from the station we needed to stop for fuel, it had been raining and when stopped the car the wipers were not straight, Robbie protested loudly, he couldn't possibly refuel a car with wonky wipers! He sat there arms folded demanding that I should straighten the wipers, I didn't and he muttered and moaned all through the refuling and payment process.