999

Am having quite a week with the emergency services.

On Sunday I had a phone conversation with my son that went something like this.

'Hi Mum, can you come and pick me up?'
'Well no, you're on your bike. You can cycle home.'
'Well, you're going to have to really.'
'Why?'
'I have to go down to the police station to make a statement.'

Of course it was a conversation milked for it's last drop of drama by mini-me, so full points there. Actually some brattish thug had pushed him off his bike, ridden off with it, jumped up and down on it for a bit then noticed a police car hurtling across the grass and wondered if there might be a connection. Anyway, he was arrested and we have the bike back. Two buckled wheels and a knackered derailleur.

Tonight, it was hospital for Mr Kumquat. Heavy duty painkillers and a dose of anit-emetics later and he's sleeping off a nightmare migrane. You know the sort where you spend most of the evening making sypathetic noises and emptying buckets of puke.

Don't anyone let me near matches tomorrow.

leaving. again.

another leaving 'do' back with the old branch chums. yes, the leaving do that they had that was a joint one with mine but ... they get another one. hmmm. sounds good to me! lovely chinese meal out and driving home in the incredible thunder and lightning.
coffee back chez nous with all the lights out and the french windows open watching the spectacle.

You've been blogged!

Last night we had a splendid nosh up chez Jamie Oliver's restaurant "15". Fabulous food, very good service and reasonably priced considering it was central London and has a big name attached to the place. Jamie failed to put in an appearance but the wine was so good we might not have noticed if he'd been the girl serving extra bread!

After the meal we staggered out, feeling excessively full, and headed into Islington to add decandence to indulgence. We sat for a long time at the organic bar putting the world to rights.

Heading back down into the underground we watched, with bemused horror, a young man lose his step on the escalator, twist 90 degrees, fall down several unforgiving metal steps and grind to a halt, legs showing ten to two. He said 'Ouch' in a overly controlled manner which made the whole episode absolutely hilarious. Gallant Mr Kumquat ran to see if he was ok but once he had dusted himself off and scuttled round the corner to hide his embarrassment, we all fell about.

Got home some time after 2. Great evening out. Must do more of this kind of thing.