A whole chicken

I'VE spent most of the week recovering after an Easter visit from the Fat Kid, her new bloke Scott and my two wonderfully well behaved grandchildren the Vin Monster and Big Boy.
And fair play to Big Boy, he is living up to his name.
We took the two of them to be measured for their wedding suits on Saturday and amazingly his waist measurement was exactly the same as his brother, who is a small matter of four years older than him. It has to be said, they looked very cute in a butter-wouldn't-melt sort of way.
After that it was lunch at Burger King when the Fat Kid's Chicken burger took so long to turn up that it could hardly be described as fast food.
Then Wren joined us for a trip to beautiful Roath Park, which was teeming on a very hot day. We bought a football for the occasion and had a kick around which did nothing to aid my strained back.
The good thing, though, was it wore the two youngsters out and by 8pm they were in bed which gave us the chance to settle down and watch Angus, thongs and Perfect Snogging which was a very pleasant interlude.
The night before I had treated the Fat Kid and her brood to a whole cooked chicken from the brilliant Albany Fish Bar on Albany Road. With three large portions of chips there was still plenty left over at the end and, for the all-in sum of £13 (with curry sauce and chilli sauce included) it proved a real bargain. By comparison our Burger King extravaganza, with stingy portions of chips, amounted to over £20. How does that add up?

On Sunday Wren and I had a stroll around Dyffryn Gardens, which was very pleasant in the sunshine, even for a renowned park-hater like me. After that we popped for a quick beer to the Black Cock up on Caerphilly Mountain before retiring to the flat for a quick fix of The Wire. A very pleasant weekend, without too much misbehaving and it has been pretty quiet ever since.
It's probably about the right time for this blog to take a holiday - at least until the Wonderful One does something worth recording.