Home Alone

So I am still oscillating between the two extremes of gastro-intestinal function, which means I am still disappointingly rather housebound as the new week begins.  This is rather annoying on a number of levels but not least because it is now finally cold enough to need to wrap up warm when venturing into the elements and my winter woollens, coat and boots are starting to get impatient.

As I spent the weekend chez moi, I was fortunate enough to have some kind visitors to come and pass some time with me and act as intervals to my television viewing schedule.  After Mr Man left on Friday lunchtime, G came round in the afternoon and she very kindly collected my prescription from the chemist for me (this was quite an ordeal for her as the chemist in question is quite frankly inept and has clearly been helping herself to the doolally drugs for some time).  Baby A was quite happy watching Top Gear and so there was no screaming from him on this occasion, and we had a nice chat and a cup of tea. On Saturday, lil sis and BIL popped in during the afternoon to fuss Barney mainly, and then came back in the evening to watch Saturday night TV with me.  We made BIL watch Strictly Come Dancing (to which I think I am now officially addicted) and so it was only fair that when it came to choosing a film afterwards it was one that he would like.  Despite Virgin Media having access to over 300 films I can never find one I want to watch, but we went for Attack the Block mainly because it had the quite funny bloke who normally makes films with Simon Pegg in it, and having liked Hot Fuzz and Paul a lot I think my logic was that if it was only half as funny than that would be ok.  Sadly, despite having a few amusing bits in it, it was not a great film as despite being very surreal and clearly made up, it seemed to advocate kids on estates carrying weapons and mugging innocent people which are two things I am particularly adverse to due to past personal experience.  BIL however was happy enough and he had been to the shop to get me some salt and vinegar french fries to aid my recovery and so on balance it was not a bad evening.

Essex Girl came over yesterday afternoon, leaving CS at home alone in charge of the children and with sole responsibility for a roast dinner.  I dare say CS is hoping I get better very soon not least because then his wife won't have quite as good a reason to abandon him at the weekends and he can spend his Sunday's not being harrassed by a three and half year old who from what I understand is not averse to grassing up her own father for eating his dinner on the sofa in front of the TV when Essex Girl was out one night this week!  Poor CS.  Essex Girl brought with her entertainment in the form of Bridesmaids on DVD which we watched and gasped at in horror at various places, but overall found it very amusing. We decided that the main bridesmaid character was too thin, and was wearing clothes which did not suit her age or her figure, and we also decided that the Irish Policeman was actually very nice and was quite a catch for the afore mentioned bridesmaid long before she realises this for herself.  (She is American - they are not reknowned for being the smartest especially in films are they?!) We were confused by the presence of Matt Lucas, and unconvinced that the main bridesmaid character had ever in fact eaten one of the cakes she was allegedly so good at baking, but overall impressed by the film. I was kind of expecting a stereotypical cutesy American chick flick type thing but was pleasantly surprised at how un-sugary it was. If you haven't seen it, then you should.  It is funny.

Mr Man returned earlier than expected from the Father for Justice event with his friends, although his physical presence yesterday afternoon was earlier than expected, it took a good six hours for me to get any sense out of him as he was quite cabbage like in appearance and vocabulary, and so to all intents and purposes he may as well have not got home until about 6pm which is when I was expecting him back to start with.  I have interpretted the nods, grunts and odd syllable to mean he had a good time, and the brief stories of vomitting, escaping goats and inability to recall what was served for pudding to indicate that the good people of Norfolk were on the whole relieved when the group left the area on Sunday morning.

So, despite the enforced homestay, my weekend was punctuated by various positives including good friends, humourous entertainment and the safe if pickled return of my favourite cabbage.  Now all we need is to get the balance right internally so I can get out there and start making the most of the winter wardrobe. Standing on the decking a couple of times a day and taking a deep breath is not quite the same.