Siblings

My brother came for a lightening mid-week visit.  It was very nice to see him.  I find that family make for relaxing visitors.  My brother arrived and slung his coat over the chair and I barked “hang that up”.  With other visitors, I tend to say “Will I hang that up for you or would you prefer to leave it there on the chair?”  He went out with some friends on Wednesday night and I said to him “Take off your shoes when you come in and tiptoe down the corridor.  I swear to God, if you wake my baby, I will rend you limb from limb”.  With other visitors, I tend to say “ok, see you later then, we might be in bed when you come in, but we’ll leave a light on and, oh, don’t worry about the baby, she sleeps like a log”.  Still, I don’t think many visitors would ring me in the early hours of Thursday morning and say without a trace of guilt or shame “Where is it you live again, I’ve forgotten and the taxi driver needs to know”.

Swings and roundabouts then.

yep… really.

My goody bag has just arrived from the publishing executive.  And it is wonderful.  I am so pleased.  It has three books including a very well reviewed just published hardback and loads of books on tape.  Oh yay.  I am thrilled.

Also, I wish to post a correction to my previous entry about Mr. Waffle’s brother.  I know what side my bread is buttered on.  Text supplied by the pub exec:

“…blog talks about how ‘like his brother’ he speaks perfect French. Like his brother AND SISTER, I think you meant! We have a new French inmate in our flat so I have been practicing with her, it’s very improving.” Yes, yes, of course that’s what I meant.  Must go off now and investigate my haul further.

Today the following sniffy mail arrived:

My brother is one of these people who always lands on his feet.  Even though he’s feckless. Very feckless. He was in London with a friend recently and he left his wallet on a table at the entrance to an art exhibition.  He decided that it was bound to be whipped so he went up to a random policeman to ask where he should go to report it lost and yer man looked at him asked him his name and where he lost it.  Inevitably some virtuous londoner had just given it to the policeman and he handed it over. How lucky is that?

However, got this mail from him yesterday: “”Lost my damn phone on Friday, left it on the roof of my car with my wallet and drove off- Aaaarrrrggghie. Unlike you I haven’t found that the absence of a mobile phone has had a liberating effect on the spirit.  Will probabally get a new one tomorrow.” Or he could just wait until someone drives round to his house to give him back the old one.

I’ll be back to Sicily later but in the interim, must tell you about my sister who is off on a cruise from Vancouver to Alaska. She has gone alone (this is the problem with earning twice as much as your contemporaries, you want to go on holidays they can’t afford) and is almost the only single person on board. The other passengers consist almost entirely of couples on honeymoon and elderly souls spending the inheritance before their kiddies get their grubby mitts on it.

Highlights have included lots of glaciers, icebergs and a plane ride around Mt McKinley (I told you that it was an expensive holiday).

Lowlights have included the singles night when she and 7 ladies in their sixties were the only attendees. Apparently the event ended earlier than scheduled.

Paying a positively obscene amount of money for a single supplement (of course, she now understands why they discourage singles).

Seeing staff remove the two beds from an adjoining room, remove the carpet and enter with a new one – only possible explanation someone has been very violently ill (my suggestion that a wave may have come through the window was dismissed with scorn – “we don’t have windows down here”. Mother of God, for that kind of money she doesn’t even get a window.).

Hearing an elderly couple who have adopted her for the trip describe attending an event entitled the marriage game. Given the demographics of their audience, she feels that they could easily have skipped the “where is the most exciting place you ever had sex” question.

I bring you this news from Juneau, Alaska from whence she just rang me on her mobile. I find that a little weird. She tells me that for a place that is connected to nowhere by road, Juneau has a lot of traffic. So now you know.