Spanish train...

Would someone please explain to me why my 'superfast fibre' (their description, definitely not mine) has less speed than the rate the milk goes off in my fridge? I can remember getting better conversation with Miss R using two bean cans and a length of string back in the day.

Over the weekend, the husband and I have watched a couple of films which have had more installments than Game of Thrones.  At a really scary moment, having already reset the whole system three times and watched another programme while the internet caught up, that damned buffering worm made yet another appearance, and the husband's world completely fell apart. We were watching a particularly gripping thriller and as I flailed around with various remote controls, he skulked off to the kitchen for beer and his emergency bag of Haribos (saved for when nothing else will do).

Anyway, it is what it is, and it's the price you pay for living in the countryside I suppose.

It's a short week for me at Binland.  On Thursday I am heading off to Spain with some female ne'er-do-wells who I have the privilege of being related to.  It's a girly trip so will involve deckchairs and Sangria and not much else.  Two of our party have gone on ahead which is a really good thing, because when the Mother, Miss R and I appear poolside on Thursday morning, our chairs will already be saved and there should be a jug of Sangria on standby.  The downside of this is that Mrs Jangles and Mrs B will be the colour of a mahogany dresser, whereas as three latecomers will look like a three sticks of chalk.  These holidays usually result in us losing the Mother for a period of time.  I have very fond memories of watching her lap the hotel four times looking for the lift, so Miss R and I will be keeping a tight rein on her.

But it's just what I need after a busy start to the year.  Four days stretched out like a slug on a garden wall talking nonsense with my family surrounded by empty jugs of Sangria

Perfect...