Having family stay with you is always very exhausting, isn't it? There are so many sights to take them to see, and so much to tell them, you barely have time to provide three nutritious meals a day, sweep up, attend to the laundry, take out the recycling, engage them in exciting niece-led opportunities, and slam the lumpy custard down over dinner in a temper tantrum before exiting without dignity. I maintain it is the result of a head cold the size of Wales squatting in my forehead, and an Asian mangrove swamp dribbling out of my nose.
I confess that it all makes other lifestyles feel suddenly attractive. Like becoming a recluse, or living as a hermit in a cave for the next twenty years. Either that, or taking up fishing on the island pier. Next week, I might be the one in the middle.
