Although in reality, that's a donkey. I've got another photo of her kissing an ass, but I'm not sure that's suitable for publication.
Anyhoo, after swimming on Friday and singing on Saturday, there's only one way to complete your weekend, and that's with swinging on Sunday...
That's us making waves in Leicestershire with an attractive young couple. The photo was taken by Amelie from her position on the moral high ground. She was looking down on us at the time.
In reality, we spent Sunday at the home of our good friend Marie. She's lived in Croydon for most of her life, and we've never bothered to visit, but now she's moved four times further away, and is living halfway up the country in a remote part of the Midlands, we thought we'd drop by. It's only a six-hour round trip, and we had nothing better to do.
As it happens, our journey up there on Sunday morning was surprisingly straightforward. Speed limits mean nothing to me, and I have Mr Burns from The Simpsons as my sat-nav voice, so we spent the journey seeing who could do the best impression of Smithers at 90mph. In fact, the entire trip went without a hitch... right up until the moment we drove into Great Bowden. Toby, who'd been as happy as Larry (the lamb) for 150 miles, had started moaning about ten minutes from our destination. But as we drove into Marie's village, he suddenly stopped. And Amelie started screaming.
Now, it's difficult to convey the scene using words alone, and I didn't have the presence of mind to take photos, but if you can imagine the Niagara Falls made out of vomit, you're halfway there. It's not like Amelie to understate things, but when she screamed "Toby's been sick!!!", she didn't do the situation justice. Toby had somehow managed to throw up the contents of about half a dozen stomachs. Not only was it down his coat, his trousers and the car seat, but it had somehow found its way down his neck and inside his clothes too. He looked like he'd been on Tiswas.
I'll pause momentarily to cleanse the palate with a more idyllic rural scene...
That's better. So, rather than the joyful reunion we were hoping for, Marie opened her front door to find Amelie in tears, and me asking if I could borrow some kitchen roll. Although I soon realised that paper towels weren't going to suffice, and I could do with a high pressure hose and an incinerator.
You only get one chance to make a first impression, so I'm not sure what Marie's new boyfriend now thinks of us, but both of them were excellent, and within five minutes we had Toby stripped off and his clothes in the wash. We weren't prepared enough to have packed a spare outfit, but he seemed quite happy with a dress made out of Marie's top...
If you're wondering what he's gazing up at, it's Amelie looking like an 80-year-old woman on the spiral staircase...
Ignore the pirate in the background.
Luckily for Lisa and me, we have the kind of children who are not only happy to be left with strangers, but are actually a lot more cheerful when we leave, so we dumped Amelie and Toby with our hosts, and drove straight into Market Harborough to buy clothes. Half an hour later, we'd found the British Heart Foundation, paid £2.25 for a Marks & Spencer's Autograph shirt, and Toby was looking a lot more dapper...
To be honest, he wasn't that smart when we left home, so it was actually a great improvement.
With Toby dressed for dinner, we sat down to a very civilised lunch of pasta, bread and salad...
If I'd known Amelie was taking photos, I'd have tried to look slightly less camp. I'd also have put more salad on my plate. But despite arming Toby with an extra-large sick-bowl...
... the meal passed without incident. Unless you count him chucking food on the floor and smearing cheese on the chair. Which I don't.
Marie's house is actually a converted chapel, complete with stained glass window, wooden beams, and a spiral staircase. After a visit from us, it's no longer just the window that's stained, and the handrail to the stairs is now decorated beautifully with stickers. So, unsurprisingly, they were keen to get us out. No sooner had we attacked the tub of ice cream with a chisel, than we were retrieving Toby's coat from the tumble dryer and heading off to the West Lodge Rural Centre for a bit of tea-cosy modelling...
Don't let the happy-go-lucky smiles fool you. We were actually in the advanced stages of hypothermia there. It was so cold, the mud had almost frozen over. Almost, but not quite...
That's Toby, shortly after ruining another outfit by getting down on his knees near the piggery. Frankly, the only one not up to her ankles in mud at this point was Amelie, who was busy doing her Frank Spencer impression on a runaway horse...
As Marie said at the time, "I wouldn't want her to hurt herself, but it would be very funny if she fell off". To be honest, we were all thinking it. But by some miracle, Amelie managed to cling on long enough to complete a full circuit of the paddock. Although by the end, she was pretty much riding side-saddle...
Is it me, or does that horse look like Ed Sheeran..?
Anyhoo, having stroked some newborn lambs, ridden a tractor and seen some turkeys with unsightly chest hair, we attempted to bring home the bacon with a bit of gambling...
I always said Lisa was a good bet. She puts the tote into totes amazeballs.
1 comments:
Another eventful Gardner day out! Well done, Marie and boyfriend, for helping to save the day!
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