Typical Saturday Night

1. Tyler is working

2. I'm on to my third glass of wine

3. I had every intention of making Swedish meatballs (but see 2) and now just feel cross that there is no Mr Delivery on the island and I never have any ready-made meals in the freezer.

4. The younger two are watching Shrek 5, or whatever, having already watched Shrek 1, 2, 3 and 4.

5. The olderst son and heir is in another country racing (sailing). He left last night, sailing into the sunset, too happy for words (literally). Today I spoke to him:

(accompanying soundtrack-crackling cell phone with background wind)
Anxious mother:  "How are you Jamesy?"
Son & heir: "Fine"
Anxious mother:  "Really, are you  really sure you're fine? I can't believe you capsized twice and were hit by your boom so hard you had to sit out the next 3 races. Was it sore, and are you sure you're OK?"
Son & heir: "Yep"
Anxious mother: "Head not hurting, no pain?"
Son & heir: "I've got a big lump, but I'm fine"
Anxious mother: "Lovey, you're a hero and we love you and you really do not need to sail tomorrow, just be OK and not do anything you don't want to. But so wonderful, well done etc"
Son & heir: "I'm fine..."

You get the picture. Hence the 3 glasses of wine. No Swedish meatballs. No Tyler. Shrek 5.

All I really want now, apart from my husband and son home, is take-aways.

Time for egg soldiers, I suppose.

Coach Omari & the Gang