I woke, sadly at 3am, my period of good nights sleep after Lourdes over...
It's been good though!
But I used the time usefully planning my trip with J
48 hours and I should be at Bristol airport.
I don't even know where that is right at this moment.
(Don't tell J!)
Just a little while longer and we should be in France.
Industrial action, plane crashes and delays etc. permitting...
Then 5 days with J.
She's hard work, like an older version of T but without the tantrums.
Her illnesses are pretty well controlled but she is so obsessional and unable to do a simple task like washing without asking about it 20 times..
(Shall I wash now? What soap shall I use? Is this the right towel? Where shall I put the towel?)
She is totally incapable of independent living and when my parents go, she'll come to live with us.
Where, I'm not quite sure, T has now totally taken over the small bedroom and M has done nothing about finding an architect to look at converting the garage...
Still, go with the flow.
Even if to get over to the window in the small bedroom means climbing over bits of dismantled computers and a game station...
Lourdes has been processed in my head and surprisingly I'm feel emotionally intact after the trip, which is a major shock to me.
Normally I come back a gibbering wreck
Maybe that will be Paris!
Or even NYC, which is looking more and more a bad idea the closer we get to it...
"Are you looking forward to a seven hour flight with me tormenting you all the way?"
Asked Mw yesterday, sitting on my bed and bouncing up and down, talking in a silly voice unceasingly...
In the end I got a bottle of Chanel No. 5 and chased him out of my room with it, only for him to return with a pool cue as a defence against the spray's reach.
We circled for a bit and I discovered by holding the spray high I could still reach him and he retreated, leaving son1 collapsed on the floor in howls of laughter.
Which was so good to see.
But 7 hours on a plane!!
Valium and gin for mum, I think!