A moments silence and an hour and a half in the oven

I remember being less than respectful when I went home to my mother's table on the first anniversary of 9/11 and she wanted to have a moments silence (which was uncharacteristically political for her), and bitchy ole me huffed and puffed and started ranting about American foreign policy and other shit that I knew nothing about but knew that everyone in the room would know less about so assumed I'd get away with it. The short and long of it was that I was a bitch. And I regret it.

Tonight I sat at the Tairawhiti Arms in Karori prior to kick off of the last Lions tour game at Eden Park (very classy venue I know, but god we had some room and I have never been so well attended to at a bar before!) with Sally and Joe and Alistair and Josh and there was a moments silence for the victims of the London bombings and I couldn't breathe a word. It's too close to home, there are people I care about there and it's just relentless. So it's belated mum, but the sentiment was there.

It's almost midnight now and I just put a nice hearty casserole in the oven, which is ridiculous but I just didn't get round to it today, I was busy talking to Chile sis and getting my legs waxed by the hot blonde and gyming and watching A Very Long Engagement which I was very brave over and didn't cry. Tomorrow I'm going to be on a bike out Eastbourne way all day looking at ship wrecks and lighthouses and entertaining and being entertained by Becky and Jason (I desperately want to call them the married ones, not in a derogatory way, I just like the labels). Incidentally I think they visit here now. Probably when they are meant to be administering justice and hosing down fires. Or perhaps it was a one off. Regardless, I now have an hour and a half to kill while the casserole/stew whatever the fuck it is simmers.

And I'm bored of this computer already.........