A Friday to Monday..

Of course, a "Friday to Monday" is the posh version of a weekend, which for you and me is usually just Saturday and Sunday. Anyway, I was lucky enough to have Son and his family here actually from Friday to Monday, and as they had been 'busy busy' in London for the previous week they were looking forward to a restful time, and to catching up with Daughter and her family. - though I'm not too sure that the two things were conducive to each other .
  As it happened, we all met up at the new Crazy Golf at the Marina on Saturday (luckily all under cover as it was a foul day) and had great fun. There were 8 of us, including 2 three-year-olds, big Grandson who's 13, the two couples and me - so all the generations were represented, and perhaps fortunately Daughter's new bloke didn't bring any of his three children - or the dog! (And anyway I suspect dogs would not be allowed.) As you can imagine, it was a mixed event, with big Grandson mostly acting as referee with the three yr olds, and the rest of us trailing along behind. We were split into two teams (four girls and four boys) and I won the girls' event, with Son winning the boys'.. Afterwards we all retired to Cafe Rouge for a coffee and by then the ice was broken (if there was any to begin with) between the two  families. It's not easy especially when Son and his lot live in Barcelona now and Daughter has a frantically busy job, her two children,  a new man with 3 children (and a dog) and very little free time. I sit on the sidelines mostly, simply doing what I can to make sure that relationships between them are good. But as we all know, a Mother's place is in the wrong, so I tread carefully.
  Next this week is big Grandson's  third ear operation in a year. He has had a rotten time with painful ear infections and this time last year he had his first set of gromits put in. They were not entirely successful so he had a second operation in the Summer, and now he needs a third op, which is scheduled for tomorrow (Tuesday) and which may also involve having his adenoids removed. The last time we went for a check-up, the Consultant took a long look inside the offending ears  and said   "Your tubes are rubbish William!" Poor chap, he never complains though it must be pretty miserable for him. We shall see what happens tomorrow, and I rather hope that the surgeon decides to remove
his adenoids anyway, though it does mean he would have to have to have a week off school to avoid any germs or infections. I guess that means a week with me,  but I don't mind at all. We can get cosy with some nice food and a film or two.