I pulled into the driveway about 20 minutes ago. I'm going to bed as soon as I can drag myself and at the very least, my contact lens case up the stairs.
Highlights from the weekend:
1. Hair (cut, colour and a slapstick hairstylist)
2. Hanging with the nieces (4 and 2 y. o.)
3. A visit to St. Andrews-by-the-sea
4. Birthday dinner with the b-day boy.
5. A visit with an old friend.
6. Breakfast with the slapstick hairstylist and a trip to visit her horsies.
7. A visit with my grandparents.
8. Supper with RJS.
9. Singing, loudly and ever-so-slightly off-key, in the car on the way home.
10. Brough home some furniture.
11. A VERY, VERY, VERY NICE PACKAGE WAITING FOR ME WHEN I ARRIVED AT HOME. It was the first thing I checked on. Literally, the first. I hadn't even gone to the washroom. It's beautiful.
And now, I'm going to bed. Even though I really broke up the 4.5 hour drive, I'm pooped.