This week I decided to give both boys a rest and took a trunk full of books to a B&B in Dorset. Fuck work I said.
I actually ended up having a particularly enjoyable time thanks to my little plastic friend, the Rabbit. Or, to be more acurate, the original Rabbit's bastard cousin which was half-price in Harmony. That'll show you, Ann Summers...if that is your real name. Am reading 'What Was Lost' by Catherine O'Flynn, which is fantastic. Highly recomended. Also read 'Lunar Park' by Bret Easton Elis. Less recomended due to strange tagent into sci-fi/horror territory and absurb episode with toy bird. All I gathered from that book is Elis is a very strange man.
Came home to chaos. Man left sink piled up with dishes because he'd forgotten how to use the dish washer. Turned phone on to find 3 increasingly concerned messages from James and one very rude one from Andrew, who I think can only be described as a bad, bad man.
I got back yesterday but took today off to. Because I can. Hah!