Words from a Bird

The husband and I had a wonderful break in the Wobble Box a couple of weeks ago.  If you remember, this was to recover after a couple of very frantic weeks in Italy celebrating the nuptials of daughter number one and Arthur Daley (her new husband is in the motor trade, so it seemed as good a name as any). 'Make sure you pick a quiet site', said the husband as he shuffled off to work.  'It's the school holidays still, so choose wisely'. What he meant by this is that he wanted to be able to slob around in walking boots, shorts which are well are well past their best (aren't we all?) and with a bottle of craft cider swinging from his free hand (probably a barbecue tool of some description in the other) without fear of a rogue twelve year old standing at the end of our pitch asking daft questions such as, 'Does your dog bite?' or 'Is that hard to tow?' or, his own personal favourite, 'Have you seen our caravan?  It's bigger than yours'. 

Today is a good day. Why is that, do I hear you say?  After all, it's not even Friday.  Well dear ladies, today, someone switched the hamster wheel of life off after a month of trying to break me and the world speed record simultaneously. There's been a small matter of a wedding if you remember.  Two weeks in gorgeous Italy celebrating the wedding of the eldest of our offspring.  Twelve days ago, daughter number one changed her name to Mrs Arthur Daley (her lovely new husband is in the motor industry hence the pseudonym).  It was a truly magical day, and one that our family will remember forever.  The sun shone, the bride shone and even I shone after seven Limoncellos.  Unlike the sun and the bride, my shine wore off the next day around 3am....but the less said about that, the better. The husband managed to deliver the most beautiful speech on the day, and I was so proud of him.  Several people came up to me afterwards and said that he'd made them cry.  I am assuming that i