Families, of both kinds

Spending time with Neil and Max was so much fun, I almost forgot that the purpose of my visit to London was to see our Uncle and spend some time with our small cousins. For me, the highlight of the afternoon was watching my small cousin Verity snuggling up to my big little brother, Neil. Neil is six foot one, I believe. Verity comes up to about his hip. It was very cute.

My Uncle is a bit rubbish sometimes, in that I'm sure he'd like to see us, but he's not an effort-making kind of guy. Luckily, he lives in a nice house, that I like to visit, to experience how the other half live, and so I'm happy to go there. I occasionally see my cousins when Mervyn takes them to see my Nanna and I am invited along as a quasi-babysitter/distraction. But I don't get to see my Aunt very much. So it was fun to just go and to soak it all up, to have Neil there being the main distraction. Maxene was quiet, I suspect because she was fainting from hunger (small portions, she she only likes particular types of food, so the choice was limited) and I was knackered quickly, since clearly the restful effects of the sofa cushion bed wore off faster than I was anticipating when I woke up full of the joys of spring, so actually it was a relatively subdued kind of afternoon. By the time we left, I was ready to go home, but pleased we had visited.

Being around Neil and Max was relaxing, in many ways. Neil knows me, teases me about my farting, that kind of thing, and Max is kind. So it was not a hassle seeing them. And seeing Mervyn and the children often feels like a treat, because it's so rare. I suppose in effect my housemates are my everyday sort of family. Leaving Merv's I had to text Sarah to tell her I would be back too late to get to church, and when I got home, Isabelle was in the living room, and Sarah had left a note. She's gone to Nepal on holiday now, so we won't see her til next month. I was sad I didn't get to say bon voyage, but also slightly relieved, as even though I like Sarah alot, Isabelle and I muck along quite happily during the week, and it's Sarah who steers the ship and writes the cleaning rotas etc. Not that I mind, I guess I just feel that she's the authority, which she is. It was a relief to fall into bed, without worrying that I hadn't hoovered the floors. Perhaps I'm really a domestic slut...