Fiona's Theory of Everything (& our wonderful neighbours)

I went training with Keswick FC Ladies, and absolutely loved it. There was more chat and banter in the first five minutes than there had been the entire time at Whitehaven the previous week. Plus, there was no one suggesting that because I am good at kick-ups that I must be a bloke. In fact, now that I think about it, it probably rates as one of my most positive footballing experiences ever. I stayed the night at YHA Keswick - still undergoing repairs after the devastating floods, but very much back on its feet. I have stayed there a few times many years ago, and it brought back happy memories as well as feeling happy for the present. It was great to meet Ellie (once taken dress shopping by Fiona) who was working the late shift, and to wander around town which was decorated to celebrate the Tour of Britain passing through. The following morning I drove down to Derbyshire to play in a YHA charity 5-aside football tournament. But, to cut a long story short, they hadn't informed me of the change of date, so there was no football to be played that day. Sure, it was a long way to travel, but as I sat outside YHA Hathersage (where I spent the night) watching some bats fly about, I thought to myself 'well, nothing for nothing'. And the next day I drove back over Snake Pass with Frank Sinatra on loud. 

It might go down as my favourite late & early shift ever - the night we had a Sean Connery lookalike and his three friends come to stay. They were all so down to earth, friendly, and funny. At breakfast I mentioned something about the Sean Connery likeness, and it was obviously a running joke between them. 'Sean' asked if his mate had put me up to it, but I assured him that no, you really do look like him! His mate then told me that it wasn't just his face, but his chest also looked like Sean Connery's, and he'd probably show me if I wanted to see it?! Well. That was all a bit much for me....so I muttered something about needing to check on the tomatoes, and disappeared into the kitchen. 

We had a slight mid-week freezer crisis; one of our main freezers decided that it had pretty much had enough (& wanted to be a fridge). This problem was exacerbated by the arrival of the food order, and there was just not enough room for everything (despite our best attempts to play freezer Tetris). However....the Woolpack Inn came to our very great rescue - saving seven boxes of frozen chocolate fudge cake (and other goods) from ruin. We really can't thank you enough. 

Fiona has developed an obsession with Grey's Anatomy (I believe her friend Becca is to blame). I'm not convinced she is actually getting any sleep at night - judging by the number of plot updates she gives us each morning. She keeps asking me to pass her a scalpel, when what she really wants is a wooden spoon or a ladle. Our kitchen is no longer a kitchen - it's an operating theatre. Although, this is potentially less concerning than the new Grey's Anatomy inspired theory that she has developed to explain pretty much everything in life. "It's really quite simple, K." Fiona began as I was getting all tangled up in a double duvet cover. "Basically, if there's something not quite right with you, it means you need brain surgery. But try to get the type which you can remain awake for - then you can stare into eyes of Doctor McDreamy." She went on to list a whole range of scenarios, from breaking your leg at an imaginary football tournament to having a slight cold, which could all be explained by having something wrong with your brain cells. She concluded by saying, "I feel so much better about life now that I've realised this. Next time someone is acting strangely around me I won't take it personally - I'll just know that they need an operation on their frontal lobe." Then she wandered off, leaving me standing there looking like a green ghost with the duvet cover now draped over my head.