On Saturday we did very little indeed except go out to the pub for dinner (mostly because it was such a nice day), ending up a little bit further afield than usual at the Kings Arms (I think), a local Amber Inn pub. I had a chicken madras with a side of potato and spinach, and Paul had a sort of mushroomy peppercorn sauce thing which was apparently very nice...
Then Paul headed off to shabe's birthday / house-warming party and I went home to mess about online for a bit.
I've done a bit of work on my newest Phantom fic, entitled "Whisper" and based on Katie Melua's I Cried For You. I'm currently writing two bits of it at the same time, though not intentionally. I started it somewhat in the middle and then decided to go from the beginning, so hopefully at some point the two bits will meet up... So far, quite pretentious. A beta (or at least a read-through) would be much appreciated just to see if any of it makes sense.
Yesterday was also lovely. We went to my mum's in a taxi, whereupon we had an impromptu barbecue. When the sun was out it was very warm, but the wind was blooy freezing. We battled it nonetheless and the food was very nice indeed.
David had bought mum a mini chocolate fountain so we tried to use that outside... and soon gave up when the chocolate ended up over most of the garden because of the gale. So that was amusing.
David then invited over Blanche and Chloe from next door to help us finish off the chocolate. Apparently David has befriended our previous neighbours-from-Hell as 'damage limitation' - it's Blanche's other, older daughter (Kim) and Kim's brats (Shannon and Courtney - chavalicious!) who are the problem, as they're over there constantly despite having somewhere to live of their own. Hence, David's plan is to try and get Blanche on our side so she can maybe stand up to Kim and make her bugger off to her own home.
In nine years of living at that house, it's the first time Blanche has set foot inside the front door, which I hadn't even realised... She is the self-confessed "neighbour from 'Ell from next doower" (you try and phonetically spell Yammish and see how far you get. :P) but seems to be otherwise pleasant.
Going 'home' always reminds me how much I love the accent. There's something quite comforting about it, something more lilting than Brummie.
Anyway. David got slightly drunk and decided to pay our taxi fare home (he gave the driver moer than enough to cover it, apparently) and I am slightly hungover this morning but at least I can leave early and things haven't been too annoying.
We're going to see Cats on Wednesday night, so that'll be nice... if only because these days, "Jellicle Cats" doesn't make me want to throw myself under a bus. The UK tour ain't London, but it's better than never seeing it again...