Where there's a will

On Saturday afternoon my Dad started reading us his will. He had went hunting for my baptismal certificate, which I apparently need for some sort of pre Wedding religious check up, and had come across his final wishes. Ka and myself had popped up for a visit to show my Mum the honeymoon destination and the intrinsic cuppa and after mentioning the baptismal certificate my Dad had disappeared upstairs. Moments later he had reappeared with his black filing box. One of these plastic extendable filing boxes not unlike some sort of felxible plastic accordian. He settled down in his chair and started rummaging through it, producing report cards from school, old newspaper clippings, souvenir booklets and the aforementioned certificates. He then started reading through his will which we did not particularly want to hear - not that we ever will want to hear it. I'm sure there will be one occasion, hopefully in the far and distant future, when it will be read out to us by some rusty old mumbling solicitor in a big office with oak furniture but not not on a Saturday night as we show off our honeymoon destination.
Talking of our honeymoon destination it is shocking to see the pictures of the effects of the earthquakes to have hit central Italy. The death toll has risen to 250 people. Depressing. It's also depressingly typical of us to have booked our honeymoon where the latest catastrophic disasters are occuring (be them natural)! Creamy Chicken John left for an Easter holiday in Rome at the beginning of the week. Hopefully the devastating effects will not affect his break in the Capital.
John is off to Rome, Andrea is still off, and is due to leave for maternity leave in two weeks time, DVD Andy is on holiday, (probably off walking a hill somewhere or hanging around Tesco for strangers' discarded receipts) and the office is quiet without the bosses around, who have all seemed to have mysteriously disappeared. As a result, we have been quite busy in the office covering for all the absentees and holiday makers. The weather is getting better though and it definately seems that summer, in some form, may be on its way.
Sheesh, I'm feeling optimistic now, considering I've spent the past ten minutes writing about disasters and wills. Maybe it's also something to do with the fact that it's Ka's birthday tomorrow and I'm surprisingly organised and prepared.

Future trips

Our honeymoon has now been booked. Woohoo! A week in Italy. Four days in the capital, Rome, followed by three days in the City of Water itself, Venice. Aeroplanes, taxis, water buses, speed boats and gondolas all included to ensure a pleasant, organised and safe journey. Okay, maybe not the gondolas (apparently they cost a fortune nowadays). Time to get the Lonely planet books out again! Brush up on the old Roman history before we head out. Of course, the trip wont be all museums and sightseeing but I'm sure we'll do some walking over there. Unlike Brussels, where I'm heading for the stag weekend. Kenny has organised the stag weekend with Dad and Jim and we'll be heading down to Belgium in mid June. Again, that should be fun though I very much doubt I'll end up remembering much of it! Kenny, Colin McG, Chaz, James, Colin Main (hopefully!), Dad and Jim will be heading out there with me. David, the boss in the work, was quite impressed with the idea of the stag, congratulating Kenny on his great choice. Apparently it has some brilliant pubs which he has experienced first hand on more than one football trip. Again, I cannot say I know a great deal about Brussels, and I'm certainly not sure I'll learn a great deal more. Kenny has warned me he will not be organising any Museum or Art gallery trips so I'll be on my own there.

Pierce Brosnan singing and Italian arse pinchers

Friday again and the week has sped by in time for another weekend. Forgot to mention my mother's birthday on the blog which was on Tuesday. Working late I was unable to get up to Chapelton to see her but we all had dinner together on the Sunday night with Gran, which also encompassed the commercial Mothers Day, so we hit two birds with the one stone there (the phrase - we were not literally throwing stones at the elder women around the dining table). Ka and myself bought her that dreadful looking Mamma Mia film on DVD and the new DVD/CD collection from the great Annie Lennox. I'm sure the Mamma Mia film is not that dreadful - it just looks it. When it was originally released last year I suspect ever woman in Britain trooped out to see it as it had to be in the cinema for months. There was even a sing-a-long version released a month after the original, enticing the same women to go back out and see it all over again, filling cinemas all over the land with screeching housewives. The Reid women themselves all went for my Aunt Linda's birthday which is when my mother first seen it. Ka was invited but opted to go with her Mum and neice instead. Not a fan of Abba or Pierce Brosnan, Ka had not been keen up until then. What's worse than Pierce Brosnan? Pierce Brosnan singing! To Abba?! No thank you very much. Maybe it was the whole Colin Firth thing too? Women seem to have a thing for Colin Firth? Still insisting on calling him Mr Darcy and talking suddenly like they're out of breath? The swedish actor, Stellan Skarsgard was the third possible Dad in the film. The third Dad? As far as I know the plot revolves around Meryl Streep's daughter getting married and three Dads being at the wedding. The Meryl Streep Mum was obviously a bit of a tart in her younger days and she does not know which one is her daughter's father and invited all three former lovers along to be safe (being safe obviously not something she was used to 20 years ago). Anyway, all this takes place on some wonderful looking greek island. The beautiful shots of the idyllic Greek town ruined only by the processions of women waving their washing around their heads.
Talking of foreign destinations Ka and myself still have to sort out our honeymoon. We've got some vague ideas about Italy but nothing wholly decided yet. We did quite fancy Venice with romantic notions of journeys on candle lit godolas passing under the many beautiful buildings and bridges, singing about ice cream. As long as we avoid any dwarves in red raincoats we should be alright. Rome is also a place we'd be keen to visit with it's spectacular architecture. Apparently there's more to do in Rome too so we may end up visiting the two of them. On the phone to my Aunt Ann, down in London, the other week she did warn us of the Italian men. Apparently they have a habit of arse pinching. She told us her bottom was red raw by the time she got home from Italy. Not sure what areas of Rome she was staying in or when she was over there but I'm sure the arse pinching is probably no longer accepted as etiquette. I suspect I would be safe from the arse pinchers anyway. Florence, in the Tuscany region, has also been recommended to us, again with it's rich assets in architecture, art and its history with the Renaissance. My other Aunt Anne (or Mad Auntie Anne, as she was known to my mates - not that the other Aunt Ann is not mad but for some reason this particular Aunt Anne has been labelled for life!) and Uncle Ian are continuously raving about Florence as they have spent more than one new year there. Both Ka and myself have never been to Italy at all so it should be great wherever we end up.