So it's a run of the mill Tuesday morning.
*yawn*
My Mum was talking to me yesterday about how she doesn't think she's going to be able to have a holiday this year (again), because of her illness and Dad's work commitments. Jokingly, as she does, she asked me if I wanted to go to Greece. I joked that I could call into work one morning and pretend I'd gotten there after a night at the pub, with no recollections. We laughed, and moved on.
I was chatting to Krissa last night and mentioned it.
"You should," she said.
Have I mentioned that I love this woman?
Now I've been saving hard for the move to the US. Once there, things with family will be different. Not less in touch, because this here internet thing works wonders, but more...distant. So I thought...yeah, hell.
Why not?
So I'm sorting it out, and this time next week, I could be nursing an ouzo on the patio of a seafront café while my Mum sunbathes by the sea, absorbing five times more solar radiation than a normal human being should be able to.
Because.
This time next week I'll be blatting down an alpine mountainside on my mountain bike.
Summer holidays RAWK! :-)
Send me a postcard to put up in my shed.
If you want.
i maintain my stern directions to NOT get more tan than me.
Marvellous. You jammy bugger. ;)
Now I've actually got some cash for once, I'm toying with the idea of going to see some mates in Rio(!), but many years of being utterly skint make me wary of spending anything other than a bare minimum on holidays.
Dammit! It was Foster wasn't it? He tipped you off about the Rhodes plan! No matter.
Be careful what you dig up, Mr Stuart. I can have you in the Shetlands by 4 am...
Oh, that is ACE.
Spontaneity is my favouritest thing.
(But a major bugger to spell.)
Another other Stuart.