I think I may have dreamt the past three days, as they have passed in a bit of a blur.
Since coming home, I have slept for 15 hours straight, and somehow have inadvertently acquired the legs of a complete stranger, which are hellbent on returning to their rightful owner, despite being nominally attached to me. Where mine have gone is anybody's guess.
The most dreaded part of the whole expedition was the journey, which in retrospect wasn't nearly as bad as I was anticipating. I finally bowed to the greater wisdom of Nav Woman, who was most insistent that I travel via the M25/M40.
Despite my reservations, it was, in fact, not too bad a journey either way, aside from one memorable white knuckle moment when I was effectively boxed in by four enormous articulated lorries, one on either side of me, as well as one in front and one behind. Fortunately, the patron saint of motorways (who is, apparently, John the Baptist) kept his head (groan) and shepherded me safely through that particular nerve-jangling episode.
I safely rendezvoused with Gorgeous Daughter, successfully exhibited at the fair on Saturday, and made it back home yesterday all in one piece, albeit completely exhausted.
I will fill in the gaps when my energy levels are in credit, but for the moment I will gather up small dog, and head off to the sofa for a snuggle, offering up a small prayer to the patron saint of migraines (Severus of Avranches) to see if he can work some magic on the one I brought back with me yesterday, and which seems to be settling in for the duration.
Incidentally, while researching for this blog post (Yes, there are those who think I just make it all up but how wrong they are) I found this list of patron saints .
Disappointingly, there isn't a patron saint of displacement activity, but the list is a whole world of DA in itself. For instance, who would have thought that there would be a mind-boggling 25 patron saints of difficult marriages, but only one of happy ones?
Yes, I'm being ironic.