Time keeps on ticking, ticking ...

Unfortunately, tonight I seem to be unable to post the piccy I took of the Wey Tamarisk, and Boaty Simon, Henry and Ned. (I'll try again tomorrow, but there's no promises this time. 'Hello' is ostriching about bigtime.) We took them copies of the photo, and ones from the dressing-up competition, when we met up with them again this evening. So you’ll have to excuse me if my typing is a bit blurred.

I blame Kouros. In his blog he challenged people to roll a die to decide how many Favourite Things they had to do over this weekend. Ned’s roll selected 3, and mine 5. So I had a look at the list, and selected Marmite on toast, a Mars Delight, Geocaching (that’ll be tomorrow), a Big Girly bath, and Lentil Splot. “Aha!” I thought. Now is my chance to get splot tutelage from the Splotmeister himself. Huh! ‘Bung in what you’ve got. The lemon is important, though’ was the summary of the masterclass.

However, the evening was longer, and more emotionally draining, than either Ned or I had anticipated. I bless Henry and Ned for instantly re-settling and starting a conversation about nothing while I held Simon in my arms after he burst into tears, saying how scared he was, and how embarrassed he was, and how sorry he was.

I’ll cook the splot tomorrow. And have a Big Girly Bath, with chocolate, candles, wine and music, and cry my eyes out in sympathy for a man who’s going through hell. And for Henry, who’s keeping him company.