Cracking night

So, spent yesterday afternoon trotting round a hockey pitch in the peeing rain with various other current and ex Wimbledon hockey players, who had been rounded up for a farewell match to 2 girls heading off to live in New Zealand. My ribs were being a bit tweaky which is enough to freak me out any time, but I needed the exercise and had said yes to playing – so I only gave it 80% and as a result looked like a total fat and useless spanner. Hey ho.

Then swapped one set of sopping clothing for another one and headed off to Swighty's birthday barbecue at her pad, The Palace. Yes, outside, in the garden. Cue 6 hours of non-stop torrential fecking downpour, which actually was enormously enjoyable due to Woodsie feeding me a top burger on my starving post-hockey and a pint of Purple Nasty arrival, followed by vast quantities of rum & diet coke and all of us huddling round her various firepits like a transient bunch of dirty old tramps, trying to remember the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody and She's Leaving Home.. The sight of Pam Gregory staggering sideways across Swight's lawn on the damp trek to the loo indoors, via several flowerbeds and the wall, is not one I shall forget in a hurry…

And have spent this morning packing for Britain – for Mum to go to my brother's tomorrow, and then on to Cathy's in Holland. SO easy to forget the passport for trip 2 and have her returned here 2 weeks early, but nailed it. That bag is rattling like a snake on acid, more pills inside it than a drug mule saving for Xmas. And also for me – woo hoo – 3 more sleeps till we head off to the Maldives. Yes, it's time I lived up to my 'but you're always on holiday' reputation, so its 12 nights sunning our oversized asses in 2 noncy resorts (Baros then Huvafen Fushi, in case you're in the area!) then back for a couple of days, then off to France for a weekend with some girly chums, then off to Le Touquet for the last weekend in May. Ra ra ra – that's the way to spend a month!

Right, time for more down to earth things. Got to go get my car back from Swight's place, but not feeling too keen as:

a) It's still honking with rain and for some reason I decided to put my nice big golf umbrella IN the car before I got a cab home last night, not so handy for now when I need it, and

b) my clothes stank so much of smoke I shoved them all in the machine this morning, and have just remembered my oyster card was in the back pocket of my jeans. Arse.

Votes by Comment button on whether:

1. It will still work perfectly

2. It will be in one piece but the washing powder will have scrubbed the £35 I had on it, into oblivion

3. It's going to be in small sharp bits, each of which will have jabbed holes in my clothes to be really annoying..

Off to check, here's hoping… Sx