Scary stuff

I DID go on a water rollercoaster when I was away. That was offically fun and not scary at all.

I did NOT go on the eight looped roller coaster at Port Aventura - not because I was a wimp but because I never actually got as far as Port Aventura. We were on the platform at Barca railway station en route to Port Aventura and the train was actually pulling in when J announced he felt really really sick and could someone (me) please take him back to the hotel. So that was what I had to do. That was OK I thought. I could do some shopping later, and a bit of sun bathing in the park, but no. The shops round where we were staying were all closed that day and the early sun which had been so promising buggered off and was replaced by heavy rain. That day on holiday I mainly read books. (J was fine after about an hour by the way.)

But these scary rides are as nothing to what I have had to face on my return home.

Truly terrifying.

Spine chilling.

Makes me skin crawl on sight.


It is in fact that time of the year again when the damn great big house spiders move in - uninvited and en masse - to my home and I really really really HATE them.