Well, the weekend went by in a total blur, but it was a rather lubly blur so I don’t mind. We’d arranged for J&C to come and stay, so Saturday lunchtime saw us head down south for a cloak and dagger rendezvous in a lay-by somewhere in Co Kildare to transfer the contraband that was J from one car to another. C had to work so headed back off again and we drove home, the boys talking ten to the dozen and updating Jen on everything and everything, until her ears where probably bleeding from it all. When we got back, there was more talk, and a very excited Bertie had an emotional reunion with J, not having seen her since he was first retired into her care.

We took advantage of a break in the rain (rain, always rain) for a squelch round the field with Bertie, then later we popped out (for ‘popped’ read half an hour in the car) to put a bet on the English Greyhound Derby and visit a yummy deli where we stocked up on massive slabs of lasagne, some serious chocolate cake and a couple of slices of banoffee pie for me and J. #1 whipped up a salad and we did some severe face-stuffing before settling down with a glass or two of Sauvignon Blanc to put the world to rights. We also had a right laugh comparing make-up and applying it to some scarily willing children. When C arrived and saw the boys complete with a full face of slap, I think he was tempted to run away.

Next, the derby, which was won by Westmead Lord, J’s choice, followed by children’s bedtime and several hours more drinking, eating chocolate and talking utter rubbish. It was the nicest evening I’ve had for a long time. J&C seem so happy in their new life, and C has relaxed so much it actually shows in his face. Lovely to see. And so to bed, where Bertie opted to spend the evening in the company of our guests (in fact, J knocked on my door at one stage because there was no room left in the bed for her) and after readjusting him back onto the floor, we all slept the sound sleep of the mightily pickled.

Sunday saw Bertie actually in bed on top of my long-suffering guests (he LOVES C) and was spent relaxing with the papers and generally vegging, although J&I did manage a walk with the dog while C thrashed the kids on the X-box. After a scary moment when I turned on the hob to find that the gas bottle had finally run out (enter C&J taking a mercy dash to get me a new one) and a subsequent power battle over who could reattach the bottle (won by C and blimey did he milk it), we polished off an enormous roast pork dinner. Well, everyone apart from poor J, who is a veggie and though she protested she was fine, I saw a distinct green tinge pass her face as I was carving and uttered the immortal words ‘I hope it’s not too pink’. I must give you the recipe for the garlic roasted butternut squash we had though, it was rather yummy. After wading through an absolutely delicious chocolate and raspberry torte brought by J&C, we were completely done for and waddled happily back to the sofa for the rest of the afternoon.

Waving J&C off at the gate later on, with Bertie trying to stick his head through to get at C and beg him to stay, I realised how much I miss them and vowed to head south much more often. Oh, and to learn some more vegetarian recipes, the aim of entertaining generally not thought to be to make your guests hurl at the table.

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