Fair Fortnight in Glasgow began last weekend, so today has been Fair Monday. We went to Insch in Aberdeenshire for the weekend, to visit SuperSpouse's cousin.
Or at least, we did all go - but not all at the same time. I found the last organ deputy in Glasgow, so I was able to miss church on Sunday. SuperSpouse started deputy-hunting after me, and couldn't find one. He came to Insch yesterday afternoon.
A good time was had by all - even though no.1 son couldn't see how anyone could possibly enjoy strolling round a series of man-made lochs to admire the scenery and tranquillity. BORING!!! (Well, maybe - to an 11-year old.)
We drove back this afternoon, stopping off for a mid-afternoon meal in Stonehaven. Why? So no.1 son could meet his email pen-pal of a year. We knew it WAS a boy of thirteen, but wanted to be there all the same. As did the pen-pal's parents! The meeting was a total success from all angles. Phew!
After that, the journey went a bit haywire. Bypassing Perth, Pseudo-Supermum was following SuperSpouse, who decided to overtake a couple of high-sided lorries on a long, high bridge. I didn't manage to overtake the second one fast enough - the bridge was climbing ever so slightly. SuperSpouse took a sudden left turn off the bridge, and I was left sailing past him onto the M9, with absolutely no chance of cutting across the lanes before the roads diverged. Panic! I have no sense of direction, but I did have the map. I got to a point where I could phone no.1 son's mobile, let them know what had happened, and was lambasted thoroughly for being so utterly, stupid, pathetic, brainless ... finish the sentence how you will. Reverse my steps? How could I? I was already in a state of panic and couldn't remember how I got where I was! I had the map, but it didn't help me much, since I wasn't sure which road I was on.
Readers will be relieved to hear that I did get back onto the A9, and rather weepily made my way to the layby where SuperSpouse and sons nos.1 & 2 were impatiently waiting for me. No.3 (in my car) played his Gameboy and fed me sweets to calm me down. He's not quite seven, bless him.
Home safe and sound eventually, I started unpacking, persuading the boys to bed, and loading the washing machine again. (Grateful, of course, that all I had to do was load the automatic washer and not use a manual paddle in a tub, 1940's style. See my earlier posting.) To the reader who suggested watching TV in bed as a way to get kids to sleep - I'm sorry, but I don't think it would work with ours - it would just over-stimulate them. Classic FM usually does the trick, though!
SuperSpouse struggled to stay calm as he realised he'd forgotten to book a deputy to cover for him at work whilst he's in Germany on another long weekend (aka short week) from Thursday to next Monday. I can't tell you the sense of foreboding that filled the house at the thought that he would have to forego his holiday if he couldn't resolve the problem.
I'm happy to report that it's three-quarters resolved now. So we can breathe again, albeit not too deeply!
To go off at a total tangent - have you read the latest Harry Potter yet? Ours arrived on Saturday morning, and no.1 son devoured it all weekend, finishing it earlier this evening. He's sad now, because he will have a long wait until the next one comes out. Haven't you ordered it yet? Use my link to Amazon. See to the right of this posting.
Back to work tomorrow. I shall say no more. Sigh!