Ms. Mac Is Alive and Well!
After a worryingly long silence, I received this sxt msg from Ms. Mac on Saturday night:
Dearest French Fancy,
Many apologies for lack of communication. No excuses, just been busy shopping, eating, shopping, eating, socialising and getting sick. Poor Mr. Mac has come down with one of his infamous bouts of tonsillitis, which is nice. Just about to pack him off to bed and settle down to a Billy Connolly DVD – a Saturday night to remember for sure.
Boys all well, family all well, except for coughs and colds to rival anything Typhoid Mary could throw at us!
Hope goose was a triumph and lobster and champagne flowed freely!
More later my dear….
Quisses!
Antipo replied:
Dearest Florence Nightingale/Party Animal,
Aha, so now the sad truth comes out! I had previously assumed that your long and dreadful silence had been forced upon you by the technological limitations of our little phones. I envisioned you sexting me sadly every day to explain how deep was your sorrow at our enforced parting, but that the puny radio waves (or fibre gloptics, or whatever they are) of your trusty mobile were simply incapable of penetrating the mighty Scottish Highlands. Or perhaps your precious daily missives were falling out of the sky and into the Loch Ness…
But now all is revealed and I must bear the pain of knowing your cruel neglect was due to the vast quantities of FUN and Christmas cheer you were having! Perhaps your sick hub and virulent children are a biblical punishment inflicted upon you by Little Baby Cheeses. May you learn from your errors!
Have just delivered eldest offspring to the French grandparents: I need a break from the endless arguing and teenage angst.
We lunched upon my MIL’s wabbit bwaised in wine and home-grown tomatoes, served with green beans with lashings of garlic and home-grown potatoes fried in goose fat, many fab French cheeses, buckets of Beaujolais nouveau (hic!) and a galette des rois (flaky pastry pie with creamy almond filling). Coffee was served with chocolate-dipped alcoholic cherries. I LOVE this country!
Luckily my walk to the railway station took me up a mountainously steep hill, even if I did have to load my belly onto a wheelbarrow before achieving movement.
Am now going on a hot date to the cinema with a witty and scintillating companion – myself!
I know you would rather be with me than soothing Mr. Mac’s fevered brow, but inconvenient husbands are a cross we have to bear. Kiss all your boys for me, but be sure to keep their germs in bonnie Scotland!
Fondest love and over-fed kisses,
HP
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Stella replied:
Oooh! Big news! I cut all my hair off! Not Britney style – all classy like. Also been reading Russell Brand – nice, ‘citing!
Your food all sounds delightful. Ours has all come out of supermarket convenience food shelves. Going in to see The Golden Compass now, which will be a challenge, seeing as I’m currently crippled with sciatica – ouch!
Love to all for now.
xxx xxx xxx
Dearest French Fancy,
Many apologies for lack of communication. No excuses, just been busy shopping, eating, shopping, eating, socialising and getting sick. Poor Mr. Mac has come down with one of his infamous bouts of tonsillitis, which is nice. Just about to pack him off to bed and settle down to a Billy Connolly DVD – a Saturday night to remember for sure.
Boys all well, family all well, except for coughs and colds to rival anything Typhoid Mary could throw at us!
Hope goose was a triumph and lobster and champagne flowed freely!
More later my dear….
Quisses!
Antipo replied:
Dearest Florence Nightingale/Party Animal,
Aha, so now the sad truth comes out! I had previously assumed that your long and dreadful silence had been forced upon you by the technological limitations of our little phones. I envisioned you sexting me sadly every day to explain how deep was your sorrow at our enforced parting, but that the puny radio waves (or fibre gloptics, or whatever they are) of your trusty mobile were simply incapable of penetrating the mighty Scottish Highlands. Or perhaps your precious daily missives were falling out of the sky and into the Loch Ness…
But now all is revealed and I must bear the pain of knowing your cruel neglect was due to the vast quantities of FUN and Christmas cheer you were having! Perhaps your sick hub and virulent children are a biblical punishment inflicted upon you by Little Baby Cheeses. May you learn from your errors!
Have just delivered eldest offspring to the French grandparents: I need a break from the endless arguing and teenage angst.
We lunched upon my MIL’s wabbit bwaised in wine and home-grown tomatoes, served with green beans with lashings of garlic and home-grown potatoes fried in goose fat, many fab French cheeses, buckets of Beaujolais nouveau (hic!) and a galette des rois (flaky pastry pie with creamy almond filling). Coffee was served with chocolate-dipped alcoholic cherries. I LOVE this country!
Luckily my walk to the railway station took me up a mountainously steep hill, even if I did have to load my belly onto a wheelbarrow before achieving movement.
Am now going on a hot date to the cinema with a witty and scintillating companion – myself!
I know you would rather be with me than soothing Mr. Mac’s fevered brow, but inconvenient husbands are a cross we have to bear. Kiss all your boys for me, but be sure to keep their germs in bonnie Scotland!
Fondest love and over-fed kisses,
HP
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Stella replied:
Oooh! Big news! I cut all my hair off! Not Britney style – all classy like. Also been reading Russell Brand – nice, ‘citing!
Your food all sounds delightful. Ours has all come out of supermarket convenience food shelves. Going in to see The Golden Compass now, which will be a challenge, seeing as I’m currently crippled with sciatica – ouch!
Love to all for now.
xxx xxx xxx
posted by Antipodeesse @ 2:19 pm
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