And Then There Was Tea.

Today I worked all day in my horrible retail job. It is a particularly bad weekend because three events collide: The store in which I work started to install Christmas land, I am horrified that Christmas is starting in September; It is father's day tomorrow which means that the store is promoting familial love as a chance to spend more money and finally, this weekend is the first weekend of Spring. Spring that blossom filled, sun shining season. There is more to this cheeriness than ducklings, signets and bouncing lambs. The other creature that crawls out of hibernation is The Bride (or Bridezillas as they're affectionately known). So after a whole day of preempting elves, recommending ties and avoiding brides I couldn't face a night of doing anything useful and sociable. To this end Marco and I are sitting on the couch watching The Good Life

and fantasizing about growing a house all of our own with organic vegetables and goats milk, wearing hilarious seventies dresses and sporting big hair and walking around saying things like "you let them in Gerry, I must get my gavel" and "I did have one or two adolescent dreams about Duncan Sandys" 

                                       Duncan Sandys

We're also drinking tea, or rather we're trying to drink tea. The first attempt went cold while we were distracted cooking quiche. The second go ended up all over the kitchen floor after Marco reached for the kettle and accidentally threw it across the room and created a momentary flood. The third was aborted when I announced that I may have accidentally put my foot in the cup (no, I don't know how either). The fourth time was perfect. So here we are warm, happy and antisocial full of long awaited tea and lots of chocolate. 

As our evening continues we have discovered that the goat from The Good Life is called Geraldine and thusly we have decided that when we get a he goat called Gus we must also get a she goat and call her Geraldine. 

Hurrah for antisocial Saturday nights.