Death and Champagne

So, my maternal grandfather died on Saturday. Not to sound callous, but having seen him less than five times in the last fifteen years, I am not unduly upset, though of course it's always sad when someone dies. I am rather upset, however, that LotusMomma has decided not to fly in for the funeral, and has ordered Him and I to go instead. Not only do I think that this is a Bad Idea and one that she will come to regret deeply, but it also means we have to try and borrow a car, arrange time off work, and find some money to get up north for the day. And if I sound like a heartless bitch then so be it.

Successfully entertained Prince, Princess, 007 and Dollface on Saturday afternoon. Then spent Saturday night in an exhausted heap on the sofa. I am NOT having one! They drain all of your energy and make you feel old and decrepit because you aren't flexible enough to win at Twister anymore.

Saw all the Mob on Sunday for curry in Ealing. I do adore my family. Mad as a bag of frogs the lot of them, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Too much champagen though, and I'm suffering this morning.

Not suffering enough not to be going out again tonight though - up to Our Nation's Capital to see Mockley before she moves to NY, with a possible cameo or two from Sweepy, PianoMan, and maybe Him as well.

Hurrah for my social life!