Overworked and Unpaid

I feel as if every time I login to my Blogger account I'm preparing for an overdue apology. I sort of dread it really, especially when I realised it's been nearly a month since I last posted. A month!? Where did that go?

Good question. I think the majority of it has been taken up drinking the local tipple, along with many a pre-dinner G'n'T, preparing, serving and eating 3 meals a day, plus changing bedlinen and cleaning bathrooms in preparation for our latest guests.

I had been warned that once we moved to the south of France (especially and convienently coninciding with the summer holidays) that we would be inundated with house guests. Aint that the truth!

I am absolutely knackered and in desperate need of some TLC. A Clairol foot spa and a cup of Horlicks will do for starters. Plus some 'quality' time with my boys. Or preferably with my big boy running around after our little boy, while I 'supervise' (sit with feet up watching chick flicks, drinking tea and barking orders).

This weekend we are off to the Emerald Isle for a wedding and a night out sans Raffers, and boy are we excited. I can't wait to be the guest for a change and think a break will do us all the world of good. The summer sun is getting to me and I'm shamed to admit that I'm actually looking forward to sliping on a cardy, or even my beloved leather jacket, for a few days respite by the Irish Sea.

Come Monday I'll be dying to get back to top up my tan, just in time for our next bus load of visiters flying in to celebrate my (extremely significant of course) 29th birthday!!!

Bring on the dancing girls and hire in a chef! I'm on strike!