Having spent the majority of the day with my cousins yesterday, today was catching the flip side with a trip down to K’s cousin in Harrow.

Before we left, I asked K if she lived anywhere near her Uncle’s shop, Sorrell and Son, in Harrow.  She assured me that she didn’t and that it would be best to follow the AA route-planner’s instructions to get there.  Without wishing to draw out a story that you all know the ending of, after spending half-an-hour getting lost in and around Watford, Bushey and Harrow, we eventually ended up on our intended road to SP’s place, gliding straight down the high street past Sorrell and Son.  Fab.

Luckily, we’d left plenty of time for getting lost, so we actually arrived 2 minutes early, to find SP whipping up a storm in the kitchen.  K’s attention was easily diverted to the lemon meringue pie that was just being pulled from the oven, until I reminded her that she had to be a good girl and eat all of her main course first.

SP is one of those hilarious people who cook and amazing meal and then declare themselves disappointed with it.  She almost apologised for it, at which point I let her know that if that was a bad meal, I really, really wanted to come round for a good one, as it must rival the best grub in the poshest restaurants.  So here’s hoping for another invite.

We eventually left in the early evening and toddled home to chill out on the sofa.  We threw on a DVD that SP had leant us, Personal Services.  Starring Julie Walters as a prostitute/brothel owner it’s brilliantly funny, albeit slightly bizarre and wacky in places.  She ostensibly plays a madame who owns and operates a “fun-house” for kinky old men who like doing peculiar things for their kicks.  It’s very much not the kind of movie I expected to see with Julie Walters in, but she was excellent and so was the film – with the exception of a truly bizarre and completely dreadful score.

No sooner had it finished than K and I were tucking ourselves up for the night at the earliest time we’ve been to bed for nearly a month.  It was, I have to say, a treat and a delight to be nodding off at a sensible hour.

Some other posts you might like:

    Nope, we got nada!