In the next 2.5 weeks I am going to Italy, watching one of my best mates get hitched, sleep, have people visit, wave a union jack flag, eat cake, stay with my parents in Bath, most probably eat more cake, work out (a lot), walk around, eat cake and enjoy some time with Haynesy....by eating some cake. Like I say, I can't describe the feeling of joy in my heart right now.
If Apollo could grace us with his mate the sun for a bit longer, say until 14th June then I would be very much obliged. Last year I had time off right at the end of September and it was the best week of the year....yeah a bit more of that kind of luck would be sweet.
Cake seems to crop up in my list of things to partake of while I am dossing around and I think I may exercise my baking muscle and make them rather than buy them. My baking skill is sporadic. Some come out quite good, others come out a bit brick like. I might attempt something that is supposed to be airy and dreamy and angel like. That way if my usual cement touch interferes it will result in a reasonably normal cake. Whatever I produce from my oven, I will post on here. We can have a good old laugh at how crap I am.
I fly to Italia at an hour normally best seen from behind my eyelids. Getting up in the middle of the night is only ever acceptable for 2 things, 1) flying out on holiday 2) a bit of hanky panky. If your lucky you get number 2 then number 1. I LOVE this pre departure excitement. Making the list of things to pack and getting the Lonely Planet guide and making notes in the margins appeals to my inner spod. The list changes at least 5 times before packing and the lonely planet gets all lovely and dogeared. Oooooh I love it! I am sitting here scrunching my nose up in glee at the thought of revising my packing list. In reality I have to be packed by about 9pm so that I can get enough sleep, to keep to my pre departure schedule. The schedule that sounds practical and everything will get done but will go out the window when I stay up too late watching something crap on telly, realise I haven't ironed half the stuff to go in the suitcase that is still in the spare room waiting to be packed. But one can dream and relish the organisation of it all. hehehe, still full of glee.
Cocobun however looks full of dread. He knows that his mummy is going away which means that daddy will be looking after him. To Cocobun this also means that he won't be smothered in kisses every 5 minutes, he won't get half the attention he normally gets and he won't have a 33 year old child saying ridiculous things in a baby voice to him. He's probably quite happy about that last point. Cocobun is an attention whore. He loves it and when Haynesy and I partake of a little kitchen smooching, he hops up, biting our ankles with a scowl on his face, telling us to stop it and to give him some snuggy time. Soz Bun, mummy is outta here and into the Italian sunshine, ready for culinary nirvana and shit loads of vino rosso.
I'm hoping to take lots of gorgeous photos demonstrating the "Dolce Vita" they have going on there, I hopefully will be looking tan and nonchalant (I love that word!) while conversing effortlessly with the locals over some wine straight from the vines. If some photos pass muster then I will post them here for you all to gaze on in wonder.
OK OK, I have to wrap this up. Things like painting my nails and applying my fake tan need to be actioned before I can get way laid by the television before my panic ironing/packing starts at about midnight.
Laters Chumps!! xxxxxxx
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