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We popped in to see the grandparents before heading off at around 10. My mum got the photo albums down to test out my theory that my son is my clone and though we are not quite identical the photos in which I am laughing or running along with my tongue sticking out could easily be photos of him. Phoebe told Ernie to look at me to see what he'd look like when he was old. A terrifying vision of his future, but in some ways it's scarier to see the vision of your past and know how quickly youth and vigour turns to creaky bones and knackered knackers.
Of course in those days you took a very few photos and put them in albums. Now we take 100 of every occasion and then only look at them again if our phones give us little slide shows from our past. I don't know which is best. Though I'd love to have some videos from the 70s and the photo albums had lots of missing pictures which people had taken out at some point and not returned. So maybe the barrage of digital photos that will die with us and not turn up in junk shops is the best way.
The drive home took the correct amount of time, with no hold ups and just a quick lunch and wee break and we were home for the afternoon. It seems Hertfordshire is 2 hours closer to Somerset than Somerset is to Hertfordshire.
We didn't do too much once we were back. I got on with my Christmas jigsaw which I managed to complete just before bed time. Though inevitably for a second hand jigsaw that cost a pound there was one piece missing. It's not a disaster. You just put in the imaginary piece. I will move on to my second Christmas jigsaw tomorrow. Who thought Warming Up would get this exciting after just 21 years? Remember the early days where it was all taking drugs and banging strangers? Well it was worth sticking with to get to the jigsaw gold. Though to be fair there was plenty good jigsaw content only 12 years in.
Remember this one. Catie has been telling everyone about how on my last holiday before becoming a dad I mainly did a jigsaw.
It's a packed couple of weeks where I don't see myself catching up on the sleep I need - the enforced jollity of New Year's Eve tomorrow and then a day to recover before we get up at about 3am to go on a skiing holiday in which I am refusing to ski. With a bit of luck the lack of sleep will kill me and I will avoid it all anyway. Fingers crossed. Being dead is such a great excuse to get out of doing stuff. The dead must be laughing at us living chumps, working hard and looking after our families when we could be doing nothing at all for free.
