Well I survived the beast from the East. I got past car accidents on the motorway and travelling by coach at a snail’s pace to Stansted airport. Flight landed half hour late in France, no airport buses in sight! The Anneka Rice in me took over. Only one train to get me to my destination, it is chucking it down and I have twenty minutes.
I pounced into the first taxi in the rank insisting in French that I make that train. Stress levels were up but I made it onto the train. Once at my destination I demolished a bottle of French wine. The very next day my daughter furnished me with my written instructions as follows: what time to set the alarm, get both girls to school, what to make for pack lunch, after-school activities, and other errands during her absence.
Oh, not to mention the bloody cat of which I still have the scars from the last visit. Thanks mum! Well someone has to say it, even if it is me. Bye then! Once again I will have to struggle in this High Tech kitchen. I can never remember how to open the Dishwasher door or find the quick cycle on the washing machine. Progress though, I now know there is no on/off button for the cooker top, all touch control.
Still not able to turn the cooker on but I can survive out of saucepans and the frying pan. While the cat is away me and the girls will have fun, an adventure and break all the rules of course. Speaking of cats, that litter tray is full! I wonder if this is the only cat in the world that bites the hand that feeds him? Having checked his name Filou it seems the definitions are all negative, just what I thought. Masculine, dishonest, thief. I even gave him the benefit of the doubt with an English definition, rogue! Definitely not ‘Petit Filou yogurt’ soft and sweet.