I must've blinked and missed it because I have absolutely no memory of what David and I did with the day
but I do remember Saturday:
it started with a flurry of that kind of last minute panic cleaning/tidying and cooking that one does when there are visitors about to arrive. This happens regardless of the state of cleanliness of the abode or the amount of food in the fridge.
I think it's one of the fixed and immutable laws of the universe.
"Thou shalt crash around and clean up for the visitors who love you for who and what you are and couldn't care less if the house is less than perfect "
Nadie and BFF Natalie arrived for lunch of freshly made veggie soup
mid afternoon saw the arrival of Mama Cass and Dave, and Cass' brother Brett - and fully five minutes later there was a game of UNO in progress at my kitchen table
before the coffee even!
Maybe Nadie can explain in the comments why it was necessary for them to borrow a cowboy hat-plus-cheap-plastic-tiara [ I was told a pair of bunny ears or a feather boa would do just as well, but they were up in the shed in the dressup box ]
there was dog assisted 500
and cat assisted Cluedo
there was the obligatory 2 hour barbequed PCB* on Sunday morning which was enjoyed in the sunshine of a perfect autumn morning with the addition of my friend Robyn and her DD Jessie
and then the ritual 'watching Cass and Dave throw a softball around' which I have to tell you is terribly tiring to watch.
[There was also some minor fence dismantlement and repair when it became apparent that Rosie had her head well and truly stuck and couldn't be manoeuvred out without damaging her eyes.
So a claw hammer was found, I held Rosie, Cass's Dave did the fence board removal and all was well in less than five minutes ... although she may have been stuck like that for about an hour, poor baby.]
At three I left my guests somewhat precipitously [ which is catsmum-speak for I yelled goodbye and bolted out the door ] and departed for Melbourne and a new opera ... "Rembrandt's wife" which was well sung, well cast, but very bleak and dark, and not precisely enjoyable. Although my puritan soul feels it was probably very good for me.
After that I headed out to the eastern suburbs to pick up Nadie's beloved from an abortive attempt to hand in a Uni assignment after work, and we got back home at about 9pm.
Now of course poor Chris hadn't had anything remotely resembling food, with the rushing-around-after-work and the waiting-in-the-dark-for-Catsmum, so a stop at the Maccas/KFC at Calder Park was desirable. Couldn't have him passing out from lack of nourishment y'know.
It would have been terribly unmannerly of me to make him eat alone, and it should be obvious to all and sundry that I pride myself on my good manners
... plus the fact that I hadn't had anything since my 'lunch' of a 50 cent soft serve ice cream cone at the Calder Park Maccas on the other side of the Freeway at 4pm - bought purely so that I'd have the needed gold coins in change for feeding the unmanned parking garage in Melbourne ...
which, Your Honour, is how I ended up at MacDonald's for the second time in 4 hours
that's my story and I'm sticking to it!
* proper cooked breakfast