>>>>>Killing Time<<<<<

Holly failed to notice that I said hello to her the other day. I refuse to say it to her again for fear of being bombarded with requests...

It's been a while since I went to one of those oddly British 'family gathering' style Sunday events like the one I enjoyed today. And when I say enjoyed, I mean it. It was fun and M's family are a nice bunch of people, very chatty and good at making a shy boy like me feel at home. I did feel like something of an observer for a big chunk of it. But, then, that's what I'm like wherever I am. Watch out for the new Mike Leigh-Secrets and Lies-style play, Afternoon at Anne's, which will reveal all.

What's a boy supposed to do on Mothering Sunday? Take round a box of choccies, or a bunch of flowers? Perhaps take her out for a meal? Lavish her with treats? Or take her to a game of rugby league? Yes, that's right, I opted for the latter. Such is the open-minded joi de vivre of my old mum that she loved every minute of the rather lopsided 46-4 victory that Hull FC enjoyed over the London Broncos. She enjoyed the hospitality on offer in the executive area of the KC Stadium. She marvelled at the amount of women in attendance. And was thrilled to discover that stadia in the 21st century contain elevators. Next year am thinking of taking her to Xscape, the indoor adrenalin sports centre in Castleford. Am certain she'll be up for that.