Goodbye Indie, hello Odd Bod

So it's Friday night, and we're not Indie and totty (Mary, I think) living it up at the thrilling BGN Valentine's function, we are in bed, writing blog and reading 'The God Delusion' respectively. What happened to the whip, the hat and the grand fancy dress plans?

Hubby cricked his neck. Rather badly, actually. I heard a muffled grunt of agony from the bathroom this morning, and he came out walking like Odd Bod (does anyone remember Carry on Screaming, or is it just me?) and saying, something about not bloody well going to the fancy dress thing now. The doctor has prescribed pain killers and physiotherapy. He suggested I went without him, but I have elected to sit at home and eat chocolate crunch tray bake instead. 

Anyway, instead of drinking cheap white wine and chowing into chicken kiev, Hubby is now discovering his inner atheist. I am so looking forward to the conversations we'll have when we go off trekking round the Kathmandu valley rim with two missionary families next weekend. Oh, what spirited discussions we'll have round the camp fire as Chris tells the other couples that their entire reason for being in Nepal is utter bunkum and tosh. 

Some would say that six adults and ten children under the age of eight wandering willy-nilly in the Himalayas is enough of a recipe for disaster, without adding religious differences into the mix.

Looking forward to it already!