Girls on film...

On Sunday, the husband and I headed off to what is becoming our favourite drinking hole on Sunday mornings. R&R in Abingdon.

This is our neighbours' cafĂ©, and has a lot to answer for when looking at how tight my trousers are becoming.  On our first few visits, I limited myself (and the husband) to a lovely coffee and perhaps a waffle. Fast forward a few weeks, and we are now having a two course snack in there.  This Sunday, I have to confess to having one of Mr R's homemade sausage rolls, followed by carrot cake.  This was quite possibly the worst decision I have ever made, as I don't think that any other food I taste will ever touch the perfection of that cake.  The husband on the other hand, had a sausage roll, then a bacon bap, and finished off with another sausage roll.  No pudding for him, just three mains...

We sat outside in the market square with the husband, two fairly well behaved dogs (we'd walked miles, so they were knackered) a great coffee and the rain (well, you can't have everything) and it was perfect. Waddling back to the car afterwards, I realised that there is a weight limit on Abingdon Bridge which we may need to start considering.

So it's a busy week for me this week.  I am dragging the husband off to London to see a big band performing hits of the 1930's.  This is something that my Nanny Joyce would have loved, so I am going for her.  The husband, whose musical adventures started in 1976 (Marc Bolan) and stopped around 1982 (Bucks Fizz) has a limited knowledge of this kind of music.  I have told him to take earplugs or a set of headphones so that he doesn't have to listen to it.  I on the other hand will be having a wild old time watching them (the apple rarely falls far from the tree). 

I've also got the lovely lady from the television heading here on Tuesday.  I had a real go at the husband yesterday as my front lawn has taken on the appearance of a Monet meadow.  All I need is a lace parasol to complete the picture.  But of course, she won't be looking at my unmown front lawn, will she?

Probably about as much as she'll be looking at the pile of ironing I need to tackle or the aftermath of the weekend.  I'll just take her somewhere clean and tidy with space to sit down.  She'll have a couple of options....

The downstairs loo (still a firm favourite) or my car (front seats only as the dogs have laid claim to the back ones).

I'll let her decide...

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