Grassington
Many things have been happening, which I have failed to blog about because I am lazy. Lazylazylazy. Or possibly just busy. BuzyBuzyBuzy. Tee hee :)
There was some tea with Unusual Guru Wilbur where we gave our usual pub a final chance after the quiche fiasco last time. The food was OK, but the service is getting increasingly random, so we're gonna try somewhere else next time. Our pub-for-special-occasions has recently changed hands and is apparently no longer good. Pants. So it's the pub with the nuclear fish pie or monster munch sandwiches in front of the TV for us in future. *sigh*
In exciting "I-have-a-new-Father-in-Law" news, Mr W's Mum tied the knot a couple of weeks ago. It's the first time we've met her fiancee's kids (all with fantastic Dutch names) so of course there had to be a dance off. The outcome was the Williams kids won, but mostly because Mr W's brother Egg was not only pole-dancing but gave a lap dance to Auntie Joan who's in her 80s. To be fair she was a wonderful flirt, egging him on (see what I did there??); and consequently they were having the banter all w/end, and she even rang afterwards to say she'd had the best w/end she could remember. Hurrah! The day after, there was an all day apres-wedding barbecue where everyone uploaded their photos onto the TV forming a very amusing background to the sausage-in-a-bun action. Consequently there are many foolish pics on Facebook showing both sets of sibs throwing a selection of shapes; and lots of pics of Mr W and I with either one or both of us pulling faces. Classy.
The following w/end, The Stepmother came up and we went off to an HRGB Rally at Grassington. We got there in time for lunch on the Friday and held court in the pub as people arrived throughout the afternoon. The hotel was a little alarming as we were presented with a mahoosive double bed. But, to our huge relief, it was only mahoosive coz it was two single beds pushed together. Phew! And we actually ended up in a suite rather than the room we'd booked due to a last minute re-organisation within the hotel. Yay! Saturday I got roped into a scratch team, given music at lunchtime and performing without rehearsal in the afternoon session; and managed to find a little time to browse around the town (I may have accidentally bought some Clay Mates without realising just how desperately sad that is!) and more importantly, Farrahs. Traditional sweet shops rule. Sunday, we all met up at a pub in Linton before heading our separate ways, and we all got lobstered by the sun during only an hour or so outside with pints. Crazy! The w/end also held a rather random selection of child-related activities for me: I ended up judging a children's talent show; and then spent the rest of the w/end with a 6yr old attached to me limpet-style, and an 11yr old also following me (or more accurately, my iPhone) about. Rather alarmingly, she has started ringing me - and I am ashamed to admit that I have "accidentally" missed all her calls as I have no idea what I'd say to an 11yr old I hardly know. An upside was actually getting to know one of the other girls there (we met last year but actually got a chance for a natter this year) so we have been doing textings since. She is a hardcore texter, but seems content to put up with my tardy and infrequent replies. Must. Do. Better.
There was some tea with Unusual Guru Wilbur where we gave our usual pub a final chance after the quiche fiasco last time. The food was OK, but the service is getting increasingly random, so we're gonna try somewhere else next time. Our pub-for-special-occasions has recently changed hands and is apparently no longer good. Pants. So it's the pub with the nuclear fish pie or monster munch sandwiches in front of the TV for us in future. *sigh*
In exciting "I-have-a-new-Father-in-Law" news, Mr W's Mum tied the knot a couple of weeks ago. It's the first time we've met her fiancee's kids (all with fantastic Dutch names) so of course there had to be a dance off. The outcome was the Williams kids won, but mostly because Mr W's brother Egg was not only pole-dancing but gave a lap dance to Auntie Joan who's in her 80s. To be fair she was a wonderful flirt, egging him on (see what I did there??); and consequently they were having the banter all w/end, and she even rang afterwards to say she'd had the best w/end she could remember. Hurrah! The day after, there was an all day apres-wedding barbecue where everyone uploaded their photos onto the TV forming a very amusing background to the sausage-in-a-bun action. Consequently there are many foolish pics on Facebook showing both sets of sibs throwing a selection of shapes; and lots of pics of Mr W and I with either one or both of us pulling faces. Classy.
The following w/end, The Stepmother came up and we went off to an HRGB Rally at Grassington. We got there in time for lunch on the Friday and held court in the pub as people arrived throughout the afternoon. The hotel was a little alarming as we were presented with a mahoosive double bed. But, to our huge relief, it was only mahoosive coz it was two single beds pushed together. Phew! And we actually ended up in a suite rather than the room we'd booked due to a last minute re-organisation within the hotel. Yay! Saturday I got roped into a scratch team, given music at lunchtime and performing without rehearsal in the afternoon session; and managed to find a little time to browse around the town (I may have accidentally bought some Clay Mates without realising just how desperately sad that is!) and more importantly, Farrahs. Traditional sweet shops rule. Sunday, we all met up at a pub in Linton before heading our separate ways, and we all got lobstered by the sun during only an hour or so outside with pints. Crazy! The w/end also held a rather random selection of child-related activities for me: I ended up judging a children's talent show; and then spent the rest of the w/end with a 6yr old attached to me limpet-style, and an 11yr old also following me (or more accurately, my iPhone) about. Rather alarmingly, she has started ringing me - and I am ashamed to admit that I have "accidentally" missed all her calls as I have no idea what I'd say to an 11yr old I hardly know. An upside was actually getting to know one of the other girls there (we met last year but actually got a chance for a natter this year) so we have been doing textings since. She is a hardcore texter, but seems content to put up with my tardy and infrequent replies. Must. Do. Better.