back in Suisse

Hello, hello, hello again, puff, pant...just back from a weekend in Blighty where we went to a lovely wedding and a lovely reception where we met 2 very lovely gentleman, Harold and Tommy and their dog, Homer. Every time the canapes threatened to go to a different part of the room, Harold stuck his hand up and said "Excuse me? We have a nursing mother here..." and they would duly trot back and offer us all YUMMY YUMMY miniature oat/salmon-y/dill things.

I am writing alot about food these days, it's because I get excited whenever I eat something apart from my normal diet which looks like this:

Breakfast: whatever Emma spat out or couldn't finish
Lunch: "
Dinner: toast and marmite if R's not around, otherwise something delicious cooked by him

We were Emma-less for an entire afternoon, too. I expected her to be traumatised, at least visibly missing us in some way, but her reaction on our return was total contempt for our half-cut buffoonish attempts to get her to smile.

Sunday we saw lots of friends, ate some YUMMY YUMMY ROAST GOOSE, dashed around some more, bought a natty baby rucksack and a warm coat for me, got on a plane, the plane was delayed, the plane was full of gruff-looking businessmen, Emma screamed on the plane, the businessmen huffed and puffed and it wasn't stressful at all. No.