Family duty & laughing dogs...

Glam factor: a.m. 9 (mascara, lippy & heels)/p.m. 0 (none of the above)
Brownie points earned: 10
Caffeine intake: Moderate - 1 Greek coffee, 2 teas
Kilometres walked: 8

a.m.:
Off to cemetery, all in black, for 6 month memorial for OH's aunt. Worry about whether appropriately dressed (no need, as it turns out). Twenty years in Greece and still struggle to understand the Mediterranean need to revisit grief at regular intervals. But, hey ho, that's the way it is, so stand respectfully as priest does his bit (though little thrown when he tells the gathered mourners "All together now"...). Ignore sideways glances when I refuse to cross myself.

File into cemetery cafeteria for obligatory thimble-full of sweet Greek coffee and glass of brandy, and make small talk (not a strong point). Despite lack of genuflecting, have earned bonus points for good behaviour.

p.m.:
Off for daily stomp, the very image of dynamic post-modern woman in trainers and sportswear - until ankle betrays me and I plunge floorwards. Land on hands and knees with all the elegance of hippo in a tutu, shredding palms in the process.
Swear stray dog across the road is laughing at me.
Get up, dust myself down, keep on stomping.

Hour later, nearing home, pass two Goth-babes around 17. Both have carefully constructed nests of hair and expressionless black & white painted faces (do they DO Botox for under-20s?). They look - and smell - enbalmed. Am certain didn't look quite so ridiculous as a post-Punk/New Romantic in the '80s - or did I?

Open front door to find Mother-in-Law & Father-in-Law in lounge, watching football (it'll be politics and the shouty snarling people next - Greece goes to the polls in a week). Settle down at laptop, claiming that duty calls.

MIL starts telling OH what furniture to get for No.1's revamped room. OH doesn't agree. MIL insists - repeatedly. OH gets cross, starts shouting. FIL says "Let them do what they want". MIL descends into glowering sulk.

Lay low, tapping away at keyboard, avoiding the crossfire.
(Dontcha just love families?)