The morning after

I hate the morning after. Really do not like the morning after.

We had some friends over last night who we haven't seen for agges. They are our camping buddies; when we go, they come with. All the time. Every time.

You can only camp with certain people I reckon. Otherwise, after awhile, the other party can reeallly start getting on your nerves.

But not this family. Anyway, I digress.

In the midst of a beautiful afternoon yesterday, we thought we'd invite them over. They weren't busy either, so they made the big drive across and spent the evening with us.

We had so much fun. Laughing, joking, debating all over crappy games of cards where Georgie and I would try and care we'd lost a hand.

E - traipsing around the back yard picking flowers and leaves for her wedding (don't know who to) and K - wanting so much to be the teenager he just isn't yet; that awkward stage between child and teen.

We all had a ball. We all had a late night and we all had a good night. Few too many wines, far too little sleep, but just enough laughs.

Then; the next day.

I hate the next day. I had such good intentions too.