Another update, so soon!

Well, since I'll be away for two weeks, I thought I ought to say toodle-oo.

Saturday was fun. Euan and I had a nice morning paying attention to the chickens and having waterfights. He keeps asking me, "Mummy, are the chickens crazy?" It took me a little while to work out that when I bought a water pistol and put it in my bedroom, the explanation I gave to Euan was that I would squirt the chickens when they went crazy, meaning the noisy 4am cluck-fest Christina sometimes indulges in. Leaning out of the window with a water pistol is less disruptive than scootching outside in my dressing gown to pacify her with lettuce. So he's been politely enquiring whether the chooks deserve a good soaking yet. I just let him soak me instead.

I was meant to be taking him to the station to meet Karl, but they opted to pick him up instead. So Euan hid behind the wall and ambushed them. I wasn't expecting Jane to walk up the path as well. Weird. They didn't even come through the gate, just lifted Euan over it. In a strange way, I'm glad I swept the yard and tidied up, not that it really matters.

Then it was off to Chester for a last-minute zoom round the shops before the holiday. Yes, I'm going on holiday! Two whole weeks away from work. I'll be in Benicassim for a week, mooching between the campsite and the beach, in between watching one or two bands. Then it's on to our apartment in Barcelona for the second week. I can't wait, even though I expect I'll bake in the heat. I'm going with Steve, Nicola, Matt and Emma. I'm getting ridiculously excited whenever I think about it.

Went out last night with Andrea and her sign language class friends. Ran into Brett and Vicky in town, and sort of formed a big disorganised group. Also saw some other people from work, including the other Gemma. We discussed how odd it was that not only do we share a middle name (Aimée), but the rare spelling of it too. I won twice at pool in Barracuda, which put me in a good mood. Then my shoe broke in South Central - the strap just came away from the sole. Steve went off to find a staple gun or something, and none of the staff could help, so he surreptitiously borrowed a screw from a sign on the door, and used that to reattach the strap. Genius! Except that when we got to Central Station, the other strap broke too. I gave up, and stood at the edge of the dancefloor with bare feet. Today's sobriety tells me that the shoes have lasted well, because I've had them for years, and presumably either the glue had got a bit old, or they didn't like the heat or humidity or something. Why else would they both break in the same place on the same night? Ironically, I had earlier been saying to Andrea how I was worried the right heel (all four and a half inches of it) was feeling a bit wobbly. She was too busy trying to stop Steve grabbing her bum, either because she thought that I would be annoyed, or because she's a demure married woman. Since Steve also spanked Brett and pounced on Vicky, I can safely say I'm not overly worried about him paying Andrea a little attention too.

Have just slept through most of Sunday, and will get the packing done soon. So excited!

So, I've been told off for not updating the site often enough. I protested that more frequent updates would lead to a very dull description of each and every meal, conversation and journey, and was told that this is what people want from blogs - something they can relate to.

OK. So I'm not going to wait until I've done more interesting stuff, I'm going to write a babble now.

Erm... Wednesday was supposed to be a pub tea with John followed by a shopping trip. It turned into a restaurant meal with John and Rob, then Dan joined us too when he finished work. By the time we finally left Domelli's (for t'was there where we were at, verily) there were no more buses, but we walked to the bus station just to make sure before getting taxis.

Steve phoned to offer a lift home. Excellent timing.

He didn't realise that it would turn into a round trip to Chester, with four people saying, "I would recognise Hoole, but I don't actually know where it is."

We did quite well, considering.

Then Thursday I had to be home between 5 and 8pm, because I had an appointment for someone to come and change my gas meter. They didn't turn up, for the third time. I even phoned at 7.45pm to ask if it was worth waiting that last bit, and the lady said there was nothing to indicate they wouldn't be coming, and to give them until 8.15pm in case of traffic etc.

So I phoned this morning, calmly said that now I would be claiming for three lots of compensation, and would like to make another appointment please. The lady this time was very sympathetic, and offered to put the claim in for me straight away, but I said I'd rather wait and see if they turned up next time, thanks all the same.

The only other thing that happened today was something that made me think a bit. You see, there are evening staff in our office now (Dan's one of them, downstairs), who come in from 5 until 10pm. One of the staff on our wing is transsexual. Naturally, my open-minded colleagues occasionally make comments like "What is it? Is it a he or a she?" or those who considered themselves particularly well-informed, "Pre- or post-op?"

I do my usual trick of hiding behind my monitor and biting pencils whenever prejudice levels rise too high.

This poor individual has provided them many entertaining conversations, along the lines of "He's just a bloke in a dress" or the more in-depth, "Which toilets does it use?" which of course led to, "What would you do if you were in the toilets when it walked in?" The consensus was that they would have to leave immediately. Then they discussed the horrifying possibility that a cubicle door could be closed when you walked in, and how would you know, so someone came up with the idea, "Look to see which way the feet are facing."

Cue howls of laughter.

Well today, I walked into the toilets (one cubicle occupied) went for a wee, came out to wash my hands, and smiled at the other occupant of the room. Guess who.

The world didn't end. It didn't even twitch on its axis.

The irony of it is, the same people who were horrified by the thought of a transsexual hearing them wee will happily share cubicles with friends on a night out, or will continue to talk to you as they go in, have a noisy wee, flush and walk out (sometimes without washing their hands). That makes me uncomfortable. But I appreciate being included in this odd sisterhood of girly trust, because it's very obvious that your face (and body) have to fit.

What is it about Tuesdays? They seem to be the only day I have time to write a babble.

So... no news for two weeks. Apologies. I know there are many people who hang on my every muttering, and revel in the tales of my adventures.

It ended up being three weekends in a row with barbecues - the last one being Steve's, as Sylvia & Colin had jetted off to Italy for a wedding. We made the most of having the large garden to ourselves, and cooked large quantities of food. Well, Steve . I sat around waiting for to go to sleep so I could get nicely tipsy with . He did, eventually, and I did, unfortunately. Some karaoke ensued, mercifully after several guests had left, and only the drunken few remained. All good fun. The only tune I really remember was the Final Countdown, because I yabbered away telling people how my brother did it for the karaoke competition at primary school, then I did an approximation of the dance he did... sorry Dan. If it helps, I probably made more of an arse out of myself than anything.

Then last week Euan and I stayed at Steve's, as having the house to ourselves was a novelty, and meant I didn't have to worry about keeping my fridge full of food or putting gas on the meter.

Thursday was the Treasure Hunt with work. Some driving, some walking, some shouting at Euan to stop legging it into the distance going, "I lookin' for crues!" It finished up at Holt Lodge (where Andrea and Aidan got married last year), for a buffet and the prizes. We came second - which is the best you can get without also having the dubious honour of organising next year's.

Took Friday off work, to celebrate the day before Steve's birthday. Birthday Eve, if you will. Mooched down to Llangollen for 2pm, where I'd booked a table at the Corn Mill. Yummy food - I tried swordfish, and discovered that it tasted of... fish. Surprisingly. Followed by baked goats cheese & beetroot. It was the Eisteddfod week, so there were lots of national costumes on display, and plenty of strange languages drifting past with all the tourists.

We bought , a lucky pig, a frisbee, and I was treated to a pair of earrings. It was a fun day. We took the route home across the mountain.

The weekend was spent mooching, shopping, and visiting Steve's family - some of whom weren't at home. Since I haven't met his dad, brother and sister yet, I was spared the ordeal of simultaneously doing the smiling girlfriend thing, and controlling a very unpredictable sprog in an unfamiliar environment.

His other brother Keith was home though, so we stopped for a chat with him and Angela. Very pleasant.

Spent Saturday evening watching some of the DVDs bought earlier and playing with a brand new Rubik's Cube. With all the stickers in the right places! I've never seen one you can actually solve! ...theoretically. I gave up after about ten minutes. By the time we finally went to sleep, it was getting light.

I've been making the most of Euan's company, because he'll only be back with me for one more night (Friday) before I go on holiday. Last night he told me "Mummy, the house is drippin!" so I replied that it was the overflow pipe. Then just after he went to bed, he came running to the top of the stairs in tears, saying, "The wall's fallin off on me!" He had managed to kick some loose plaster off. Then he had panicked that he would be in trouble, or the house would fall down, or both. Bless. I should really fix the house so it doesn't traumatise the poor child for life.

Tonight I asked what he wanted for tea, and he replied "Pastas." You can't fault the logic, pasta looks like a very plural object. In fact the French take exactly the same approach. I still find it cute and endearing though. So I obliged, and he thoroughly enjoyed his .