A trip of a lifetime - or could it be a lifetime of trips?
Our last day and then night and then very early, why are we doing this, was a cascade of wonder upon wonder.
The cogent one for this happy thread was the conspiratol way that, despite having fasted for 14 hours, liver, pancreas, G-protein-coupled receptors, glucagon-like peptide-1 hormone and several, at present unidentified co-conspirators wound up the wonder wheel of misdirection and folderol which confusingly (it’s only a machine after all) issued forth a comedic 6.8 when I emerged from my slumber (albeit in our own bed for the first time in a week) at 1035.
This final chapter began yesterday morning with frantic plans to squeeze out that last drops of shiney shiney from the great god Ra onto what from a casual observer looked like a row of human bratwurst eagerly basting themselves with goose fat on their individual grill pans. Not a sight for the faint hearted so Mrs Miggins and I took our merry band of grandchildren into town for last minute ice creams - (apart from Mr Pickle, who is nine years old so nearly an adult, and his 14 year old sister - and despite the pull of potential knickerbocker glory lookalikes, like to imbibe in all this burnt offerings to the gods palaver).
Airports are always an interesting place when you are Little Miss Pamplemousse and four years old.
In front of us, in a queue for some ghastly food products, stood a man with a Mohawk hair-do, covered in tattoos, a body like an overripe red anjou pear and sporting a faded t-shirt with an image of a proudly standing Native American on the front.
The Pamplemousse: Hi! I like your hair.
Mr Egg on legs: thank you.
THe Pamplemousse (pointing to the image on the t-shirt): is that you when you were a little boy, before you ate too much.
Mr Egg on legs, looking a tad flustered, glanced at The Pamplemousses’ Parents - dad is six foot four, bald, black beard, used to play number 8 for Birmingham, End or Outside Linebacker for the GB team and sporting some interesting tribal tattoos -mum is a tiny Thai woman but with a hairstyle suggesting interesting skills with Muo Tai but would, in reality produce a great Pad Thai - dad is grinning like a Cheshire Cat - mum is trying not to fall on the floor with laughter - mind you it’s not far to fall for her.
On board we have row 30 (a-f), row 31 (a-f) and row 32 (a and b).
Chaos is sat next to mum in 31b with The Pamplemousse as blocker in 31c. Mayhem is in 31e sat next to dad with me as blocker in 31d.
By the time we landed, Chaos is Now in 30b with gran, Mayem is in 31a, The Pamplemouse is spread over 31d and e and I am now blocker in 31c.
Plane landed without so much as minor crisis at Edinburgh at one minute past one (a divine time). Arrived home at 0600 this morning, went to bed and finally got up at 1035.
I love holidays I do. The theme for today, including internal workings of blood related rebels was accompanied by Battalia by
Heinrich Ignaz Franz von Biber:
).
