Before I go too far into our recent goings on, I would like to address the elephant in the room. Anyone that follows me on Facebook may know the elephant I’m referring to.

On Wednesday evening, around 8pm, I was hit by a car. When I say hit I mean more bumped into and when I refer to “a car” I mean my car. My car being reversed my him. Yes that’s right, him. My husband.

You can imagine my reaction as I tried to peel my skin off the exhaust pipe and move out the way as fast as my now dodgy hip would let me. He briefly kept going too. My screech wasn’t enough.

You’ll remember in my last blog that my constant leaking had failed to remove the Hippo that attaches itself to my butt, so I’m unsure how I could not be seen in any mirror. Surely something this big must have been spotted. And if not, then we have a huge blind spot issue with my Mini.

To top it all off, he laughed. Yes that’s right he laughed. He saw the circle starting to appear on my calf and could see my obvious disgruntled state so his first thought was to laugh. Arse! What’s even worse is it made me laugh too. I can’t tell you how much that annoyed me.

Any way, I would like to say I’m ok. No lasting damage other than the rear view mirror that has been embedded into “his” forehead. Now he’ll bloody see me!

So moving on, We’re 8 days away from our departure. As it looms close the anxiety levels are creeping higher. Sleepless nights are becoming a bit more of an issue again and I am more amazed than ever before in life, how and why I collect so much rubbish.

I refuse to send my numerous socks with holes in back to the UK to add the collection of odd socks there. Dave has even thrown wires away. I think he can remember the two boxes we have in the loft at home.

The suitcases are still due to be picked up tomorrow. Still between 9 and 6. I’ve been warned not to pack most items with only tissues and big knickers being suitable.

I’ve had a test run of packing the car. I can’t remember if I told you this last time. Either way it should be fine. (I say that a lot don’t I?)  We’ve even got room for the fluffballs bed. Baxter not Dave.

The Raptors are a year older than when we arrived and their skills at whining and arguing have increased to suit their ages. I can’t wait to sit in a small car with a sick dog and arguing children for 5 days. At least I can’t get reversed onto. Happy days!!!

It’s quite surreal to think that we’ve only got one more weekend left. Dave is intent exhausting us to the point of collapse with “fun” things to do. Walking an hour down into a canyon being the priority. I, on the other hand, have a list of things I need to get done while I have the car and a small amount of his attention.

It looks like things are coming together nicely if I do that whole stepping back and reflecting thing. I’ve even cleaned windows in the apartment. Not all of them because the 4 I did nearly killed me. I hate cleaning windows. Beds have been moved to clean under. Cupboards emptied etc. All last minute bits left.

Baxter gets his passport two days before we leave. Once I have this I think the rest will be a doddle.

I can then focus on the ship ahead. Where the life boats are etc. You see I hate boats, or going on water. Swimming in it is ok but that’s about it. I can’t even go over the Poole Harbour bridge without freezing, stopping breathing and getting all sweaty. Especially when my brother stops his car in front of us while we follow making sure that the crossing takes as long as is humanly possible. Another Arse! (I can see why he and Dave get on so well)

The smallest of the family is creating enough noise to attract my attention. It needs feeding I believe. He’s very Hangry it would seem. Mummy just isn’t moving quick enough.

Anyway, Ciao for now peeps.








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