Visiting

It's still windy, when I'd much rather have cold, clean, crisp frosts like these:



The wind's not such a bother, because Mum and Dad are visiting. We had a fun but tiring day pottering round shops, and now Husband's playing on the computer, Dad's dozing in the living room (or possibly reading What DVD magazine...) and Mum's snoring can be heard through the wall from the spare room...

She'll very likely kill me for that. She reads this blog. Mum - I am a dutiful and loving daughter, but the fact remains that you snore like a bandsaw. ;-)

It's Dad's famous Christmas Balti tonight. Heaven's Be Praised! I'm hoping he's laid off the chilli - if not, someone will say, "it's a bit hot," and Dad, puzzled, will remark, "but I hardly put any chilli in at all..." Close examination will reveal the chilli content to be near the "cleans out sinuses" level.

A neighbour of ours (who carries on an intense and unrequited platonic love-affair with our cats) gave me one piece of advice when she heard Dad was terminally ill. "Don't pass up any moment to spend time with him."

She's right, and I'm not.

It's too much fun being with Mum and Dad, anyway, especially now we've added dark humour to the mix. I'd never have believed we could cry with laughter over things like trying to determine exactly what type of chemistry set it tastes like Dad's eaten, when he takes his chemo tablets.

He reckons its the cheap and nasty one, for beginner kids.

;-)