So we have an attack of planned vs actual.
Planned: Parents turn up mid to late afternoon, as discussed as per last year. If they arrive early enough, we might go over the hills to Holmfirth where they film Last of the Summer Wine, which I grew up watching with them, and it's local.
Actual: Text message from Mum at 12.15 saying they're driving through Holmfirth now and will be with us in about 45 minutes. I know how far Holmfirth is from here. We've got half an hour.
Problem: We're both knackered. Really really knackered, SB did a long shift yesterday and neither of us could sleep last night. So after getting amazing_holly to school, we'd both gone back to bed, and fallen asleep. The SMS woke us both up.
I haven't finished tidying the living room yet. Worse, Mum announces in the text that the "we might, possibly, if we can fit it in" plan to maybe bring up my freezer from storage in their garage has actually happened, and they'd like to unload it on arrival. So I need to clear the cellar as well.
Objective achieved, and stairs vaguely finished being hoovered (not that you'd notice) as they started knocking on t'door.
Plan: Go into town for a snack lunch, then see about doing something else, possibly Holmfirth or elsewhere in the area.
Actual: We went to The Old Ship, took our time going over the menu, then got to the bar to order just after Katie took 3 different food orders, and it was only Mark in the kitchen. Ah well, it's a nice place anyway.
Problem: Mum misread the menu a bit. Y'see, when she saw the prices, she assumed the portions must be really small, so ordered a side order of chips and a cheese board as well as the meals we each ordered. Of course, they weren't really small.
We're in Yorkshire, the Ship is considered fairly expensive by local standards (and worth every penny when we can afford it, they're both damn fine cooks). So there was a mass of food, and we couldn't finish it. Yup, those reading this that know SB may find this hard to believe, but there was food left when Mark cleared the table.
So we finished eating at about 3.30pm. Holly finishes choir at 3.45pm. So we trot off up the hill to collect her, then arrange to meet again later at the restaurant for evening meal.
Planned: Go to Street for their buffet all-you-can eat Pakistani food. Two reasons 1) they're open on Mondays, which, confusingly, is unusual up here and 2) the food is damn good.
Actual: We do actually go. But we're all feeling absolutely podged from lunch. So, despite it being all you can eat, we manage to not eat very much. But what we do eat? Damn good, even my spice-averse palette can handle a lot of their stuff.
Problem: There wasn't one, it was good. Well, except that my body is now in rebellion because I've had two oversize meals in one day and not much exercise.
Tomorrow? We might go to Holmfirth. We might go to Wakefield for the National Sculpture Park (if only just to annoy Germaine "call me Professor" Greer). Don't know yet. I do know it requires us meeting my parents and the ungodly early hour of 10am. Wish us luck.