Yes, we’re home. In one whole piece. It seems the gods are keen to work against us each time we travel back to England. This flight was no less dramatic than last month’s. But we’ve managed to arrive.
I now face two suit-cases to unpack, I’ve just finished the supermarket-hopping-spree and am now about to feed the little one who must now get used again to having only her silly mummy as entertainment. That and Baby TV of course, from which we (I) took a gratifying break.
Must rush off to continue feeding C and then start on the cooking.
Yes, the holiday’s over and we’re home.