Riding in Cars With Boys*

*There is no particular reason for this title. I have not been riding in cars with boys, although I have, in fact, been watching boys riding in cars: Go Karts, to be specific. Last night was the first of the Days of John that we have planned for Terry’s brother (who arrived in town on Sunday night with his girlfriend), and it involved Terry, John and a bunch of their friends racing around a Go Kart circuit until their arms hurt and they couldn’t walk no more. Terry won. He was given a small trophy which he has displayed in pride of place in our living room, and he has not stopped talking about it since. He is talking about it now, in fact…

Getting John to the Go Karting involved a huge amount of subterfuge, which is something Terry and I are not very good at. “Come round for cocktails, John!” we said, little realising that John would become super-enthusiastic at the prospect of said cocktails, and would go out and buy ingredients for them, so we had to give him cocktails anyway (after the racing, natch) and then we were drunk. No more days of John until the weekend now: Saturday is the day of the ill-fated helicopter ride, and on Sunday we’re taking him for lunch at The Witchery , which is a v. swanky restaurant frequented by the stars, and OMG WHAT WILL I WEAR? (Also: John, if you happen to read this: I am talking about another John altogether. Not you. *Whistles*)

Other than that, nothing has happened except I have totally lost my “mojo” and can’t be bothered working any more now. I’m working right up until Friday afternoon, and Lord, but this has been the longest week EVER. Just to add to the fun, we have become aware that we may be getting a “surprise” visit from Terry’s brother George this Christmas, which means that every second of every day I’m like a coiled spring expecting him to arrive and find me in my dressing gown with knickers drying on the radiators. I wish it could be Christmas every day…