Le grande sigh.
So I'm back from France and back to real life, which of late unfortunately consists of not being sure what day of the week it is, apart from Wednesday Day which means it's off to the Post Office to collect my magnificent sum of 204 euro and something cents for another seven days, lamenting the disappearance of Murder She Wrote from RTE One's daily listings as poor old intrepid Jess has been elbowed out of the way by the Afternoon Show harpies and looking up the job listings on Creative Ireland.
It was a great old week though, with an insane amount of cheese eaten by all. The wedding was all relaxed and lovely, the priest looked like Steven Spielberg, I (embarrassingly) started crying after my first ever slow dance, The Dress was admired by many and my bag (which was also charity shop-bought, get me!) was LOVED by the assorted aunties. There was also a ridiculous amount of drinking done, an 8k kayaking trip down the river Dronne which I miraculously survived, REALLY cute pigs on the farm our little house was on, the invention of Extreme Ball (you need a swimming pool, a ball and no qualms about dunking people underwater should they be in your way) and many many games of Villagers vs Mafia (if you know this game, you'll know it's difficult to explain but frighteningly good fun to play - we had played it for four hours straight one night without even realising).
I still have to unpack though. I hate unpacking. Maybe first I'll send this tshirt to Montrose marked for the attention of Seoige Junior and Sheana Keane.
That'll show them.