Where on earth did 8th week come from? One moment it's November and it's Bonfire Night and I'm off to Poland and the next thing I know it's December and we're decking the halls (we have a Christmas tree and his name is Barney ♥) and singing along to Christmas songs and I am off to Oxford for Charlotte's annual Christmas play.
I left London in the middle of a snowstorm and went on a festive bus ride through the Chilterns, arriving in Oxford full of winter cheer. At the park and ride I met up with my auntie and we went for lunch at a Lebanese restaurant in Jericho. It was colourful and delicious and extra wonderful because the waiter sat us down at a table next to the (warm, warm) radiator. After pitta bread and moutabel we went to the Ashmolean to see the 'Pre-Raphaelites and Italy' exhibition (because what would a trip to Oxford be without a healthy dose of Rossetti, Holman-Hunt and co.?), then I went to Mansfield to meet up with Charlotte.
We went to the Peter Pan rehearsal, while I waited for David and we had a massive Harry Potter outburst ("Hi, this is my husband Bill", "Hi, I'm Ron's brother", "He likes his steaks raw now, hohoho", "Oh my husband Remus, the joker" = SUMMED UP) and folded programmes. David popped up eventually and we went for tea at the Eagle and Child (tradition much). Then it was play time and as usual the (Peter) Pantomime was witty and fun and Charlotte played her part of Alfred ("I'm Dave...") the pirate with particular finesse.
In the evening we lay on Charlotte's big new bed in her big new room and we watched our favourites on youtube (plus the David Tennant look-alike and a disturbing Argentinian dance competition (shudder)). In the morning we had a lie-in and I went a-shopping and in the afternoon I went home again and that was that. Lovely.
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