Good hair day
It's hard to tell, I know, that it's a good hair day. What with all the layers of fleece, wool, cashmere (!) and possibly also thermal underwear. And no, Nana and Patricia were not heading off to Lapland. We just went on a bracing walk around Dun Laoghaire as I was using my second batch of Flexitime minutes (a concept totally foreign in the Mistake Factory - the only flexible hours scheme that they fostered with great energy was the Free Overtime For All robbery).
Surprisingly enough, I was the only one to go for a dive.
It was great to have Patricia for a night and morning. She spoiled us rotten. And in exchange was polite about the haggis, neeps and tatties.
I was in awe at witnessing the warmup lap of what is going to be a hell of a week-long bletherathon between these two.
Nana sent me a text when they got to Belmullet. This did 51 miles to the gallon in the Yaris, and 72,000 sentences per kilometre. Good going!