182. Bad days and upgrades

In case you didn't know, I am in mourning. On Friday afternoon I ballsed up installing an upgrade for my phone so spectacularly, so unforgivably wrong that resetting to the last back up was the only option if I ever wanted to switch it on again. Only of course I'd never actually backed it up, had I. 

181. Pretty sharing plates

I was around 14 when it happened, after yet another smoking oven and a dish filled with something that might have resembled a shepherds pie (if I'd bothered to peel any potatoes that is) poor Mrs Davies had put her hand on my shoulders and whispered "If you want, you can just watch when the others cook. You just take notes." From then on you'd only really find me in the kitchen warming up fish fingers or following my mum around for scraps. (Kind of like a labrador) I never needed to cook properly, who even wants to sift flour anyway. 

Suddenly living on my own aged 21 and 11.5 months I found myself having to step right up to the hot plate, practicing my favourite meals from home, trying to remember exactly how mum used to do it and feeling pretty happy with myself when I could. These days I'm a lot more at home behind a boiling pan and I always, always bother to peel potatoes.

180. Last stop, Malta

Adam's dad had just moved to Malta and with flights over from Rome only taking an hour it felt like a perfect excuse to leave the busy city in favour of one last sun filled escape. Our flight had been nearly 6 hours delayed (I'd made the mistake of having a couple of beers as soon as we arrived at the airport, guess whose hangover kicked in with 4 hours to go??) and we landed in the early hours of the morning to a dark, silent island lit up almost entirely by fairy lights.