Gahhhhh – this morning got off to a damp start! I woke to find puddles of fish water flooding the kitchen, one of our tanks has sprung a leak. And it would have to be the bloody tropical one, wouldn’t it?
I can’t get a replacement until the morrow, since, due to the TT motorbike races, my road is sealed off for the day (besides, most local business remain closed for the duration). I’ve patched it up with gaffer tape, and wrapped sponge cloths around the base, but it’s leaking like a sieve.. the water level needs topping up every half hour. Not sure if the fish will survive, I definitely sense a mass funeral coming on..
Oh, that’s not my fish-tank up there, no, though it’s certainly not for the want of trying – I have taken a photo of it, but (for the first time ever) my trusty, loyal camera is refusing to talk to the computer today, and is refusing to upload anything. WTF?? Now I am getting seriously worried..
Guess everything really does come in threes. Yesterday, two hours into “cooking” our Sunday roast, I discover our fan oven has been blasting nothing but cold air around the chicken.. sheesh! I transferred it to the main oven, but only minutes in there, acrid, black smoke started to belch out of it, setting off all the fire alarms. Turns out, some anonymous, clever soul has cooked the plastic handle of the fish-slice in there, which has melted and glued to the bottom of the floor. It’ll take the best part of a day to get that thing right. I gave up in the end, just steamed and grilled our so-called “roast” (what a tasteless lump of meat that turned out to be).
At least Matt flew safely off the island, yesterday. He and his mates have gone away on a jolly to Spain, now that all their exams are through. I’m pretending they are all going to be sensible and wholesome, yes, ignorance is definitely bliss until I see him home again (fingers in ears, singing, “Lalalalalala”).
(I have five inch killer stiletto’s on here, yet still the lad tower’s above me.)
He attended his last school function on Saturday, accompanying us parents to his May Ball. Admittedly, could he have gotten out of it, he probably would have, but it’s tradition, and there was no way I was about to let him off the hook, so there!
“Ma, stop pawing me!”
“Quit whining and smile, remember who’s paying for this!”
(‘Sides, he’s already had his own leaving Prom, this May Ball is for US, we, the long-suffering parents, ‘tis only but fair..)
Ahhhhh, and didn’t they brush up well?
‘Course, it was sod’s law this bash had to coincide with the first evening of road closures for the TT. Being as how my drive was sealed off for the duration, we’d had to trudge through the muddy back route to get here, down the slippery, wet glen, climbing the odd style and gate, and jumping some seriously perilous stepping stones, in order to cross the swollen river – hmph, I’d like to see you try doing that, wearing a pair of over-sized Wellies under your Ball Gown!!
Still, it was worth it (smile).
It’s been quite an eventful week, what with one thing and another. Youngest met me at the door on Thursday;
“Mum, a whole squad of bikers just come down looking for you!”
(Trying hard not to look too eager and excited) “Really, who?”
“Dunno’, never seen them before, but I gave them your phone number, and they’re gonna’ ring. They have really, really cool bikes!”
WTF?? “How many of them were there?”
“Um, five, six?? One was a lady, Tiff? Her bike was HUGE!”
Ahhh - The Replacement Crew!
Oh, how wonderful of them to look me up again (hugging myself, with a wider grin plastered all over my face than the widest grin imaginable, even at a widest grin world convention, of all the finest, widest face grinner’s on the surface of the planet). WOO-HOO, WELL, LOOKIE HERE, THEY’RE BAAAAAAACK!!
They later came to watch the races with me for the day, and a fine time was had by all. My drive is a prime spot to watch all the wheelies speed by, even if it does mean being locked in with me (grin). They arrived at 10am, and couldn’t escape until after 8.30pm – but being exceeding well trained, they always turf up with all their own food and beverages in tow.
The swing-set found another lease of life in-between the races. We even also found time for a little potter around down by the river.
It was a great day, and I look forward to seeing them again, before their return to England.
As it happens, I’m also due to meet up (for the first ever time) with a fellow blogger and her husband on Thursday. This will be the third year on the trot that they have made the pilgrimage over from the UK, to catch the races. Sure hope my oven gets fixed before-hand - I’ve (cringe) invited them over for lunch!
To see how close we are to the action, take a look at these, I took them all from the top of our drive, and without the benefit of using any zoom lens.
Yeah, okay, he wasn’t exactly racing by at the time..
But these were!
The side-car racers are bonkers, the team-riders are forever falling off. Hubby volunteers as a Marshall most years, and he’s seen some terrible sights (shudder).
Ah well, sorry luvvies, I can’t stay on here gassing all the day long – I have me some fish needing tending, then an oven to scrape down (Some folk have all the luck, eh?).
Hope to catch up with you all again soon! xx