Oooh nearly missed this – update alert.

http://www.geocities.com/elizabethmarshallstories/

Clawkit has posted not one but two new stories. I’ve not had much chance to read lately so I’m not sure when she sneaked those in, but they weren't there the last time I looked ;-)

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I think I’m suffering withdrawal symptoms – I’m missing my normal banter with Pooks. I’ve spent my whole life being the sensible, reliable one; the one that puts things right and gets things done. I've said before, although no one believes it now, I was a very quiet, shy child and never really got into any trouble, well not that I got the blame for at any rate.

So it’s nice now to occasionally forget all of that and act up, especially as we both know that we don’t mean it when we try and get one over on each other, we're obviously going through a second childhood. In fact thinking about it, I actually feel sorry for Scally who usually ends up the referee in some of our more volatile slanging matches. She’s no doubt enjoying her well earned rest. Never mind, I’m sure we’ll make up for it – does that sound threatening enough?

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Eldest called me yesterday to ask if I could spare 15 minutes to pick Fiancée up from his place of work and take her home. Her car had failed the MOT and he needed to work on it and put it through again. She isn’t very well at the moment; she’s been diagnosed with a kidney infection.

It was dinner time so I said yes I'd come straight away. Of course nothing is ever straight forward – I needed petrol for a start. Even I know that a car will only run for so long when the petrol gauge is in the red. Unfortunately I’d actually managed to go to work without my handbag (I blame the diet for this. I’d made myself a packed lunch and I’m only use to putting one thing in the car - obviously food was a priority), so I picked her up and detoured home. She popped to the loo and I collected my handbag, then I filled the car with petrol and drove fiancée home via Stourport. The traffic was horrendous, due to the bridge work and yet more traffic lights and she was desperate for another pee.

We got to about a hundred yards from their house when she suddenly swore. No, nothing to do with my driving. Her house key was with her car keys, which was currently in Eldest son’s pocket ten miles away.

So she crossed her legs and we turned around and went back again. In the end I stopped at work so she could releave herself as it was getting passed the point of uncomfortable to down right bloody painful. Then picked the keys up and drove her home again. The 15 minutes had stretched itself into an hour and I’d not had anything to eat. I know I’m on a diet but I do need a certain amount of food to keep going. Never mind what are mummy’s for?

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As promised/threatened today’s photos are of Hidcote Manor Gardens. Here is a brief history - spot the mistake.