Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious !

It has been a bit of a surreal week. A fabulous family reunion and The Git's recent brush with The Polis.... let me explain.

My little sister Jacqueline arrived from Oz with her wonderful daughter Katherine two weeks ago. Much excitement followed as I have not seen them for 10 years, one of the downsides of being a Donut Child. An emotional reunion was held at Truro station with the little ones holding a big banner, which read, Welcome Home. I think about 100 plus weary travellers got off the London train and everyone of them smiled at the sight of Josh and Angelina holding that banner, a rare moment in time.

I hadn't seen a lot of them as they were busy 'emptying the shops' in Truro and I was busy being ill....so ill that I could not visit the hairdresser...seriously ill then! Note...it has always struck me that 'Hairdresser' is such an old fashioned word. You would think that 'Hair Artiste' or 'Hair Celebrity' would be much more in keeping with our present world.

I rang Ma on Friday and was bullied into driving over to daughters house in Truro, Saturday morning, in order to then drive to St Ives (shit roads with bad arm) and show Jax all the annoying Emmetts! Talk about hideously grumpy. But being a Donut Child, I packed the perfect picnic. Grilled Salmon for Pa, Salad and Eggs for Jax, pop and cold sausages for the kids and tomato juice for me. Soft buttered rolls, a quiche and a raspberry mousse, which I finally finished at midnight. I headed off to bed, muttering grumpy, terrible thoughts to myself about bad roads, Emmetts and a sore arm.

Woke Saturday morning an hour late, Pa on the phone. Grrr. 'Why should I meet you in the middle of Truro when we are going to St Ives?' said I. ' Erm...I think you need to come over as we need two cars' said Pa. I was a bit like Jack Nicholson in the final scene in 'The Witches of Eastwick' when I put the phone down. You really do NOT want to know what I said or muttered whilst trying to cover, 'Vampire Like' paleness over with make up. Not Good and Very Stressed is the polite version.....

Arrived in Truro, parked on a double yellow, got shouted at by shop owner as Siany lives bang, smack under the Cathedral. Stomped into Sians.....and burst into big noisy tears as my brother greeted me....I am still a little shaken up now! Poor Angelina, I think they had gagged her, tied her up and thrown her in the cupboard under the stairs (joking) as she was so desperate to tell me that Uncle Greg was here.

Explanation of tears is that my brother Greg also lives in Oz and I have not seen him for 3 years. To have the three of us in the same room at the same time was a massive thing for us, oh and to have my parents there as well was, was, was....words fail me! Forgive me but it was Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Hmm...wonder how spell check will deal with that!

As a family of travellers we do not usually manage to be in the same country at the same time. At one point, I was in Cyprus, Greg in Oz, Jax in Scotland and my parents on Ascension Island.

We had a great day and went to St Ives in two cars but I didn't have to drive so the arm had a rest. Greg was driving like an Aussie but I think he was still running on 'Jet lag Time' as due to the Magic Volcano Dust he had done; Perth - Dubai - Dubai - Athens - Athens - Frankfurt - Frankfurt - London. He had a conference in Belgium and decided to pop over and say Hi. What a decent bloke. (can't say I love him on here as he is an Aussie and I would, for sure, get duffed up!) So thanks Greg for making my day!

I am sure you are all wondering about The Git's recent run in with the Polis. It was Sunday and I was a little delicate, due to celebrating family reunion. I looked 'Reet Gawjus'. I was wearing cut offs, my oldest T and a pair of Ugg boots. Happily cooking Sunday lunch, hoovering and cleaning a window. Door knocks and I find one rather nice looking Police Officer on my doorstep along with The Git and his mate Dan.

Deep breath! I invite Polis in and the two boys slunk in as quietly as they could, with ancient tails tucked between their legs. Apparently Josh and Dan had been throwing golf balls at the side of a building. This building, however was covered in very expensive slate and they had smashed rather a lot of it up. The Officer was quite stern but no match for me. No voices raised, no swear words used, just a quiet venomous rant as to how and why they had let me down.

Yeah, I can hear you saying that boys will be boys but bloody hell...ah well I suppose I have managed to cause my parents a few heartaches...but NOT at 12! The upshot is that they are both grounded. Oh man, I hate grounding them, it is rather like doing penance myself. I have to put up with the Git because he cannot go and do his usual skateboarding/bike thing. Also those previous known as Laurel and Hardy aka Dan and Josh are pining for each other and I feel guilty. Bonkers isn't it. The punishment hurts the parent much more than the child.

So that is my week. A lot of fun and a little crap. Oh and this Blog is dedicated to a bloke called Dave who gave me the impetus to Blog tonight when I was feeling lazy.

Night All

Namaste

Muse x

PS - I forgot all about the Picnic!