Barely had we recycled all the empties from the visit of the Scousers ...(more the mal of the guelle de chien than the fleurs du mal of the Baudelaire Brothers and fellow festive companions)
..when it was the return of the Crumblies. Or rather, the Crumblettes.
Of course it became a classic. What else do you do for your mother's 80th birthday but invite her and some of friends to partake of the delights of Provence at Easter.
Mum and my sister Anne had been here at Christmas, and had tried out lots of the walks (downhill all the way). I'd sweet-talked Jean into coming to do the spring blitz on the garden, and to help me with some of the to-ing and fro-ing.
Flights were booked. The crumblettes with Anne from Liverpool. Jean from Stansted. All Ryanair. Both flights due to arrive within 40 minutes of each other.
Then of course, things changed.
Now I remember why this blog site has been silent - the challenges started to stack up ..
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