Remember remember, tonight's the night we're allowed lots of legal shouting in the back garden. How dare people invade OUR airspace with those nasty flashy, screamy, banging fireworks. Haggis has LOTS to say on the subject, most of it at full volume from the top of the steps. Megan shrugs (seen one firework, seen 'em all). Me, I'm not so sure, so I'm usually out there supporting Haggis but from a position closer to the house than he is, just in case a girl has to make a run for it.
Last night we dined in style, as you can see, red wine amongst the Panini-Boys' equipment, with Dad dodging between tools to conjure up a roast lamb, roasties, carrots and chard, followed by Christmas pud (but don't let on to the Pud-Lady we took this long to get around to it!) and ice cream.
Today, the Paninis have been gyprocking about the place and making good the grooves left by the absent wall, putting up the new ceiling and generally titivating because tomorrow we are getting plastered. No, Haggis, this isn't Calva and no, Megan, we are not talking red wine, Mum and Dad are under strict instructions to have the kitchen entirely clear of all kitchen-y stuff because "Rob" is going to perform a transformational miracle.
The Paninis are off to another job for the day, so we don't know how we'll do tomorrow for cheese rolls, cheddar puffs, cheese-and-bacon savouries and , of course panini. Today we were offered tomato and basil soup, coffee and a "roll up". I think the Paninis might have been taking the Mick at that stage, don't you.
Deefski
No comments:
Post a Comment