Bank Holiday #2

Typically, yesterday was a bit of a Bank Holiday washout - at least it was if you had to spend five hours on the road trailing the (very wet) cold front which seemed to be directly above us virtually all the way down. We arrived home (K, J and I) feeling rather cheated since lots of sunshine had been enjoyed by all down South in our absence. Can't have it all I guess! 

Off we set Friday night, thinking we would avoid Bank Holiday Mayhem, only to discover everyone else had the same plan! Once off the (totally wonderful M6 Toll Road) everything ground to a halt, and although J was able to enjoy waving at everyone as we sat there I had hoped for a slightly more exciting evening. The ipod was dead, and anymore "Jo Jingles" songs or "The Fairy Stories the Fairies tell themselves" and I would have got out and walked. Thankfully the persistent "rubber-necking" plague which affects this country lasted only 6 miles before we could reach a super-speedy 30 mph again. Aaaargh..... 

The roads "Oop North" are a complete mystery to me. Those who think the M25 and it's satellites are slightly manic obviously haven't experienced the M6 around Stafford on a sunny Bank Holiday. Games such as "Catch me if you Can" take on a whole new meaning and the urge to force everyone out of the outside lane come what may can be quite threatening. However the choice between a propellor "wind up" plane from Stansted and driving through motoring hell is not an easy one. Both fill me with fear and dread! 

I had a lovely break though, drank too much wine and had far too little sleep but thoroughly enjoyed catching up with Gabi. Bank Holidays really confuse me though.... I have spent all today convinced it is Monday, which has a knock on effect for the rest of the week! In fact it may well take me all week to catch up, unless A perfects the days of the week and puts me right. It's a current obsession of his to try and get them all in order much to H's annoyance, since he has absolutely NO concept of time himself. The fact that A is expressing a) an interest and b) some level of understanding is incredibly frustrating for H and he considers it easier to shout obscenities than consider the obvious and master them for himself. One day I hope he will gain a working knowledge of Western time-telling without sand timers and visual timetables, but that's some way off yet. 

UPDATE 2018

Whilst H did indeed master the days of the week, he remains undecided about the value of GMT and prefers metric time. It's no less frustrating.