Indulgence (final)

Friday night: sat up late to watch the first session of qualifying with the F1 world satisfyingly topsy-turvy. Finished the last of the bottle of white wine we bought on the previous Friday evening. (We might be indulging, but we ain't over-indulging.)

Saturday morning: breakfast in bed, l-o-o-o-n-g soak in the bath, lunch, and second session of qualifying. Even more topsy-turvy. We happily predicted that our longed-for triumvirate for the podium--Montoya, Barrichello, and Alonso--might come about. And, anyway, if Webber made it to the podium we'd be equally pleased.

Managed a couple of short bursts of guitar--punctuated by a long pause whilst we desperately tried to remember how to play a C major chord (we'd remembered A, B, D, E, F, G majors, A, B, D, E minors, G7, D7, B7, A7, and were feeling rather smug, but C was eluding us).

That was the end of the indulgence.

Looby Loo and M arrived home at 6.30. Holidays are essentially over for a while. Oh, and the definition of holiday being the period between two bouts of washing and ironing applies even when it's someone else going away.

Sunday: took Looby Loo to a party. Missed the latter part of the Grand Prix, but did see Rubens' exit. We weren't far out with our predictions. Monday: went to a very pleasant barbecue. Looby Loo and M swam. The ravens didn't. We still got enough exposure to chlorinated water to have a throat feeling as if it had been sandpapered and fingers peeling. Bah!

And on into the final week of paid work for a bit.