A lazy day with the parents
Oct. 22nd, 2017 08:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sawylGot up early, despite the late finish, and spent the morning catching up with my mum. My dad who'd, having stayed up to ensure he was at the airport to pick me up, decided he was too tired to go on his Sunday bike ride and stayed in bed late instead.
I took full advantage of the facilities and put all my dirty laundry through the machine. This was partly practical — I'd only taken just enough clothes to see me through the Turkish part of the holiday — and partly protective — I wanted to ensure that if I had brought the stomach bug back with me, all my clothes had at least gone through the washing machine at a reasonable temperature to minimise the chances of it being passed on.
The rest of the time was spent taking it easy, cooking, and catching up on the news about my sister's new job — she'd aced the interview I'd helped her prepare for last week — and her subsequent decision to work this week, instead of taking it off to look after the kids over half-term.
We had my mum's vegetable spaghetti for supper and although the sauce was excellent, the pasta was less than good. None of us were quite sure why, but there was definitely something wrong with it: either the texture or the density were wrong and it had a bland, less than pleasant quality we weren't quite able to identify. But we probably shouldn't have been all that surprised: my sister had bought two lots of the same stuff and her family had rejected it when they'd tried it, so she'd palmed it off on my parents...
I took full advantage of the facilities and put all my dirty laundry through the machine. This was partly practical — I'd only taken just enough clothes to see me through the Turkish part of the holiday — and partly protective — I wanted to ensure that if I had brought the stomach bug back with me, all my clothes had at least gone through the washing machine at a reasonable temperature to minimise the chances of it being passed on.
The rest of the time was spent taking it easy, cooking, and catching up on the news about my sister's new job — she'd aced the interview I'd helped her prepare for last week — and her subsequent decision to work this week, instead of taking it off to look after the kids over half-term.
We had my mum's vegetable spaghetti for supper and although the sauce was excellent, the pasta was less than good. None of us were quite sure why, but there was definitely something wrong with it: either the texture or the density were wrong and it had a bland, less than pleasant quality we weren't quite able to identify. But we probably shouldn't have been all that surprised: my sister had bought two lots of the same stuff and her family had rejected it when they'd tried it, so she'd palmed it off on my parents...
