We’ve been on holiday. That is me, mum and Uncle Hugh. When Uncle Hugh’s puppy went back in a big flying bus we all drove to the house of some friends of Uncle Hugh where we went grape picking in September when mum was away. Well, this time they didn’t pick grapes, instead they tasted the juice that they’d squeezed from them. Mum and Uncle Hugh seemed to really like it, this juice. They were doing things with this juice in this dark place where there were lots of barrels. They were moving it from one big barrel to a smaller one. Whilst they did that I chased the chickens outside, taunted the cat and nicked his food, then I went back in and they were tasting lots of juice from different barrels and they were laughing a lot and talking lots of gobbledygook with their French friends and saying “Wee Wee” and “Superb” all the time and nodding and gesticulating and mum got all giddy.
Afterwards Uncle Hugh helped mum back to the house because she couldn’t walk very well. I think she must have hurt her feet because they weren’t working too good. She managed to eat lots of food though and they carried on tasting the juice and I ended up having to put myself to bed because they all fell asleep.
Yesterday mum said she wasn’t feeling very well and moaned a lot on the way back. When Uncle Hugh suggested she have some “hair of the dog” she moaned even more. Why would Uncle Hugh want her to have my hair? He’s weird sometimes. I think she must have had a virus. Anyway, when she was back and reading the online newspapers she cheered up. She laughed and said to Uncle Hugh that God Clarkson had made her happy. She said that whilst the world is falling apart “…good old Clarkson writes about Tea. How refreshing is that” God Clarkson writes about Tea.
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