Canadians like to talk. A lot.

As a matter of fact, the dancing went quite well, since you ask (I think the triple whisky I downed just before going on stage was a factor in my performance). Show me a stage and I'll show you an exhibitionist - tragic really, but not as tragic as the make up and costumes we were forced to wear. Myself and my co-performer, who were, as you know, supposed to look like pure-hearted mountain girls, were got up to look like what can only be described as the love child of Danny La Rue and Widow Twankey in a seaside gypsy tent. Hubby said he has honestly never seen me looking quite so bad. And, given that he has been present at the births of all three of our children, that is a fairly damning statement. Anyway, the good news is that I managed to do the whole thing and didn't get one step wrong. I felt sick afterwards, though (the come down after the stage rush, I guess). Hubby's speech in Nepali went well, too, I think (I couldn't hear much of it as I was at that point locked in a dressing room and having blue eyeshadow and a fuscia pink head scarf forced upon me).

Not much happened over the weekend, although we did go for a grown-up meal out with the parents of Son's best friend from school. They were very nice development-type people. He is English and she is Canadian. Now, I have quite a bit of admiration for the Canadians because they have produced some tip-top writers over the years (Margaret Atwood, Alice Munro, and I'm sure lots more that I can't remember right now). I have only met a handful of Canadians personally (four, actually), so this may be a sweeping generalisation, but my goodness they can talk! Hubby, even when he hasn't had a few whiskys, can usually sneak in the odd anecdote about his time on the tanks, or some random yachting yarn, I think managed one sentence. In fact, I think we managed a sentence each (I had to interrupt to get mine in). His was: "So how was your last posting?" Mine was "Good job your leg wasn't eaten by a bear!"

I think we were at the restaurant for around three hours - still, you can fill in the blanks yourselves.

Anyway, it's a school day tomorrow, and Hubby has just reminded me that he's up at five thirty for a run (and good for him), so I should go.

Nightie night xxx