Know how you get a bit bored cos there’s nowt happening in your life? Your social diary is alarmingly empty and the weeks just stretch out in front of you with nary a night out or a hangover to look ahead to?
That? Well, I wish that was going on with me.
That is not on my agenda at the moment. Oh no, thanks to my remarkable ability to open my big gob and let my belly rumble, I (and by I, of course, I mean we) will be run off our collective feet over the next month or so.
Starting tomorrow when our weekend guest arrives. Remember I said me and big gob? Works twice as loudly on social media.
A month or so back Glasgow comedian Janey Godley asked Twitter to help her find a hotel room in Brighton this weekend as she’s on at the Brighton Dome and I tweeted back a suggestion or two. Janey tweeted again that she’d had no luck finding a room.
You know where this is going, right? Bigmouth strikes again. So, Janey will be our guest this weekend – finding a seat in the Lead On van alongside Alfie, assorted dog towels and chews, and a gross of poo bags. I know she’s really looking forward to it …
And I can’t wait to be the butt of some earthy Glesga humour at the Dome on Saturday.
No sooner will Janey vacate the spare room than my brother-in-law will be putting his PJs under the pillow for a couple of days as he paves the way for him and my sis to relocate from Lisbon to the UK. Unfortunately, the Portuguese economy is in such a hole that it makes ours look like post-war Japan and it looks like things will only get worse there. While I’m sad things haven’t worked out there for them, I’ll be thrilled to have them close(r).
So if anyone in the Hertfordshire/Bedfordshire areas needs an electrician who can also instal solar panelling, drop me a line – have screwdriver, will travel.
Next up in the Browett-Traynor B&B will be my niece Kate, so desperate to resume her love-in with Alfie that she’s coming here for the October school holiday. Kate will be arriving just in time to act as head waiter for our first official dinner party as a married couple. (I’m hoping for better food results for our guests than last night’s effort in the pressure cooker which actually burned, despite me following the instructions TO THE LETTER. Can anyone explain how that happens?)
On a side note: this morning I sliced my pinky while drying sharp bits off the food processor. It hurts like hell and it won’t stop bleeding. Right now, despite a thick layer of dressing and plaster, I am bleeding on the keyboard. I won’t let it stop me, tho it might slow me down. I know you admire my professionalism and what can only be called bravery. Today this blog really is the sum total of my blood, sweat and tears. However, the event of October is heralded by the arrival of Debbie’s mum Margaret and her partner Linda – together all four of us are off to Buckingham Palace so Her Maj* can bestow the royal seal of approval on Debbie for being a professional lesbian (this bit may not actually be true). The invite says it’s basically in, gong pinned on, then out, not so much as a cuppa char. Which is a bit galling. The least Betty could do is spark up the kettle and offer us a wee cucumber sarnie sans crusts.
I reckon the gong will be the first thing in the van when we head north for a long-awaited return to Glasgow. This will be Alfie’s first trip to Scotland but Debbie reckons he’s already acclimatised cos he’s used to me shouting ‘get doon ya daft dug!’ while Debbie is more prone to a Kat Moon-style yell of ‘oi Alfie!’
Mostly I’m looking forward to pakora, a can of this new fiery Irn-Bru Twitter has been tweeting about, a Morton’s roll n square, an afternoon at Celtic Park (or maybe not if recent results continue) and a pie and a Bovril. Oh and seeing family and friends too, of course.
All I have to do is survive the three weeks between now and then.
*No guarantee it will be HM but we will refuse to accept a lesser royal