Hello there hags. My, haven't the age-spotty fingers been busy!
I am thoroughly bushed. (Rather like Wilbur.) Yesterday, drove through London to my sis's house, as I thought our parents were going to be there. 1.5 hours later, got there, to be told that no, it's next week. Still, turned out quite fun - went with her, her three kids, plus her MiL, to a Shetland pony riding club, run by the world's poshest woman, sporting a mis-matched tweed suit ? no doubt passed down three generations ? and those mega-expensive leather riding boots. We then had a rousing game of Monopoly. Then I drove another two hours back through London. Honestly, it's only 30 miles, but has to be the slowest 30 miles in the entire world. And DS insisted on listening to the SAME INCY WINCY SPIDER CD all the way there and back.
And today, drove to Moorfields for a test on his eyes. They stuck electrodes on his head, which was not received well. Once again, had to sing incy wincy spider repeatedly to stop him sobbing and tearing the electrodes off his face. Drove home. Sat in car while he napped. Drove in again. Saw doctor for results whose English was so heavily accented I couldn't understand what she was saying. I asked for a copy of the results, and she queried why. I resisted saying 'because every buggering time I come here it's a different doctor, and we have to start from the beginning again, and no-one knows the whole story except me, and I can't understand what you're saying, and don't patronise me bitch'. But I didn't. By this stage DS was going crazy, running around the room and having 'dramatic' falls. Anyway, upshot is he is totally blind in one eye, and has to have a general anaesthetic in two weeks time to take a mould for the creation of a 'shell' to make his bad eye look normal.
And I've run out of red wine.