Home again

Apparently the weather here has been great, but today is grey. No mountains in sight. We are home. The trip back was predictably exhausting with trains and busses and planes and more busses involved. Once I retrieved the car from the far distant carpark at the airport, I thought it was a simple run home. To bed. Hah! The complete idiots powers that be running the roadworks closed off the on ramp to the motorway, so off we went on a midnight "let's wander through the moonlit countryside" trip. Hunched over the steering wheel with gritted teeth. Muttering. We finally got home 1 and a half hours later than we should have. BUT wonderful friends had left milk and bread and collected the post, so we could have some coffee and then topple into bed. Bear in mind that it was 2.30am European time by then.

I should not moan. I had 4 stunning days in the most beautiful place on earth, so I should be thankful. I love travelling. But actually propelling mother and assorted heavy bags through the process, ably assisted by my son, is not a complete joy.

My post today is mundane to the extreme. I have a lot of reading to do to catch up with everyone. I have taken mother shopping for food, and done battle with the power companies to retrieve overpayments. I have caught up with friends who have also had this horrible virus. And I am completely deaf from the pilot's decision to plant his plane on the runway after a nosedive. Well, it just actually seemed as though we descended rather rapidly, and my ears are still stuck at 38 000 ft. Inconveniently. I am now in need of an ear horn. Note to any pilot fortunate enough to be flying me anywhere....I need gentle descents. Slowly gliding downwards. Drifting like a leaf in the wind. None of this " Whoah...there is the runway.... let's land. Now. " nonsense.
I suppose the fact that I only paid £3.99 (+ tax) to fly there means there could be drawbacks. (Flying back was more, so don't get too excited.)

I have suddenly realised that I have turned into my grandmother. My Mum is quiet and gentle. Granny was a trifle more intimidating. She might have stopped to have a word with "the young man driving the plane" on her way in to her seat. And listed her requirements. Heaven help anyone if it had been a woman pilot. I am rambling. Enough. I am deaf. Did I mention that LOUDLY enough?????

I have 2 more days of holiday to:

1. Clean this house
2. Scrub the floors
3. Do the washing
4. And ironing
5. Write lesson plans
6. Sort the garden
7. Read a zillion blogs
8. Work out how I managed to kill my camera completely
9. Go and look at the allotment
10. Persuade my son to do some work
11. Sort out my sewing room
12. Springclean the entire house (as opposed to just cleaning)
13. Visit friends
14. Have fun
15. Do some reading (book club is here at my place in a couple of weeks. I must buy the books too)

Personally, I think I could concentrate on the last 3 and forget the rest. And make some more coffee. Did I mention the small fact that I brought home Swiss chocolate?