March 1st

Up by 7:30, and H is frantically wrapping up presents in advance of the awakening of the bithday girl. I only have ten minutes of her opening her pressies. Next time she does this she’ll be a secondary school girl, and no doubt a very different person to the lovely, still innocent child who eagerly devours her littl pile of gifts.
I have to go out for a lesson with T. He is pretty good but does some really dopey things from time to time, then gets very apologetic. But it’s quite hard to stop him from doing them again.
After dropping him off it’s round to A. She has been on the piss till late the night before but swears s he is fine now. Her last couple of drives have been pretty good, and she’s generally ok today as we head for the Asda roundabouts. A couple of hairy moments, but she deals with them ok until!! She’s looking right at the roundabout and stays looking right as we pull away and crash over the kerb. I lurch over to grab the wheel to get us back on track, and A dissolves into fits of laughet and for five minutes cannot be brought under control. It’s very funny.
She pulls up about 3 inches behind another car.
"Did I tell you what we should be able to see between us and the next car?" I ask (Tyre and tarmac the anticipated answer. She ponders for a minute. Then replies "Everything?"
"Yep that’s right, the whole universe" I respond, and she starts laughing again.. A little later she sees a yellow car, takes both hands off the wheel and hits me. FFS!!! Apparently the "voiture jaune" game is as popular in France as here. I suggest she needs a bit more concerntration on her driving, She considers deeply, and comes to the conclusion that next week we should have pain aux chocolates for breakfast. Completement bonkers!
I get home expecting to leap into the car and head for Helpringham. PD is there wanting to see our bathroom, as she is thinking of getting T to do hers. I give vent to my feelings about T’s workmanship, and in a way wish I had been more diplomatic. I wouldn’t like the comments to get back too him, cos whilst he can be a bit cantankerous, he’s a good hearted chap, and always willing to drop everything to help us out, as was proved the other morning when the mobile skip refused to start, and he was out in a flash with his jump leads.
I point out a few bits and Pat decides to call in the pros.
I find it hard to concerntrate fully as prior to escorting Pat upstairs, the door has been opened bu the birthday girl who is carrying a fluffy bunny in her arms. The little brown and white fluffball looks so cute, and I think how kind it is of one of her friends to have let her have him round on her birthday. Then the obvious truth dawns. I am escorted downstairs where a rabbit hutch the size of London Zoo waits on the decking. Apparently all this has been arranged for weeks behind my back. The rodent apparently goes by the name of "Sherbert", and is quite the sweetest thing I have seen..
Had hoped to head straight to Helpringham, but as ever H dissapears at the cruciall mometn, buying school supplies for Dan which could well have been done during half term when he didn’t move from the computer screen.
We leave late, but to be fair to H she gets the car moving at such a rate that we quickly make up time. I feel a bit nostalgic for the times when I had a fast car and could drive at 95 or 100 mph. The drive is uneventful, and spoiled only by the result from Lincoln where the Chairboys have gone down to a single goal.
Get to Helpringham and bump into P straight away. Jump into the shower and meet him for a quick beer. He is thriving with people working for him all over. Try to arrange a beer for tomorrow, but he has committments.
Then we head off by taxi to Sleaford for Emma’s bithday dinner in the local curry house. It’s a fun evening, everyone is happy with the grub, including Grandpa who has an exotic "lamb surprise" which is flabed in Sanbucca, and is rather tasty. We order piles of food, and I fear we may never eat it all, but it dissapears, and is followed by birthday cake, and ice creams. The whole bill comes o £121 and I feel happy to be able to pay my half of it. On the way home conversation turns to recent events, and of course it dawns on me that I am in now in earthquake country. Dad and the taxi driver swop quake tales, and I begin to feel quite excluded. Normally would look to go for a beer afterwards, but the thought of an empty Nag’s Head fails to inspire me, and once again it’s an early night.