I've had a very
interesting time, this past twenty four hours. Yesterday evening I was going out for a meal with my family as it's my mum's and brother's birthdays next week but Robert went back to Oxford today so we couldn't celebrate them on the correct dates. Robert collected me and spent most of the journey telling me about his holiday traveling around Italy, from which he had recently returned. Lots of Bad Things happened but they still had a good time. We all went out to the restaurant then, somewhere between
Bradford and
Halifax. The bar was a little crowded so I kept backing into a wall, trying to get some space. There was a fireplace behind me, at knee level, but it was either unlit or just for show. There was some tealights on it though, in glass containers. As I moved around a little I must have ended up knocking the container over and exposing the candle beneath as the next thing I know, my bag is on fire. I threw it onto the ground, which luckily was either wooden or stone, I forget which and had a rather deep drink of my vodka. Nothing was damaged inside but my digital camera is showing scorch marks. Around a quarter of the bag flap disintergrated and the smell of burning plastic pervades the remains still.
The meal itself was alright. Nothing special. There was some lovely chips though. Dad was annoying, Robert was bratish and annoying, insisting on speaking to us in Italian. The table service was slow. I was exceedingly happy to finally be able to go to bed. I had a dream about a man who had been turned into a pet hodgeheg and he tried to alert the family to his plight by playing the saxophone and painting pictures which said "accountant".
Mum drove me up to Baildon village so I could take some pictures of the graveyard. On the way there she spotted a hodgeheg on some grass. We stopped and I took
some photographs. I was concerned for it, as it was the middle of the day, so it should be asleep not out foraging for nuts and berries. Mum said it was probably just confused. I wasn't so convinced but there wasn't much we could do. It had no obvious injuries so we weren't really justified in ringing the
RSPCA. We left it alone and drove on to graveyard. Mum left me to go drop some items off at her shop. She took a long time returning and when she finally did pick me up again she said a cat had been knocked over and couldn't walk, probably had a broken leg, and as she knew where it lived she had taken it home until the owners had arrived back.
She drove me home via
Marks and Spencers. Somehow I managed to persuade her to buy me a fabulous new skirt. There is a photo in the gallery but I'm not linking to it as it's pretty bad. When we finally got home then, she started cleaning my kitchen. Cooker, oven, sink, fridge (which desperately needed it), work surfaces, floor, she did the lot. I did help, but she did most of it. I offered to buy her a pizza or burger to say thanks but she didn't want one. Strange person.
20:25
