I came home from work today utterly exhausted after three working days that could easily have been as stressful as my old life as a corporate whore. When I came into the house, DM said that when he’s got up this morning he’d looked out of the window and noticed a big box on the steps of the building next to us. It was so unusual he went for a look at it and discovered the box had his name on it but the wrong address. Ah Colin!

Colin, my best buddy of thirty odd years (one of five best buddies all heralding from the same dizzy, hedonistic, wonderful period of my life) is coming to see us the weekend I finish my teaching practice and he decided, in a moment of rare lucid organised-ness, to prepare for his visit by sending on ahead a case of wine…trouble is, the visit is three weeks away – I’m not entirely sure how he thinks we’ll keep our mitts off this lot between now and then but we’re going to have to do it somehow. I reckon our best bet is to cart it off down the field and bury it.

He’s well ahead of the game on this one and I feel very guilty about it because I still owe him his 50th birthday pressie. (From 2 years ago!)