Today was supposed to be the ‘Great Expedition To Haddo’, yup another stately home bites the dust in our never-ending tour of holiday cruelty. But not this time – Haddo House is only open on the weekends from September onwards. Damn... So instead we decided to go home and make potato gnocchi. BIG mistake. We’ve tried making these things before and last time swore never to bother again. And yet – today we did. And they were dreadful. Again. I tell you, if Marie Antoinette had really wanted to piss off the proletariat she should have said “Let them eat gnocchi.” They’d have cut off more than just her bloody head for that.
Then, as if this wasn’t indignity enough for one day, I got the fated call from the garage. My car’s been making nasty, grinding, squeaky noises for a wee while, like there’s a mouse roller disco going on in a mincing machine. At least the lady on the other end of the phone had the good sense to ask if I was sitting down before she told me what the bill was. BY THE HOLLY ARSE OF SAINT MILLIGAN! Remember how we sold She Who Must’s car by auction last week? Now this. And we still haven’t managed to sell the Jeep yet either. Sigh... Not a good month for vehicular transport in the MacBride household. Nor is it a good month for the bank account. But I’ll bet our credit card company will be rubbing their greasy little hands in delight.