Hoppers!

On a lighter note, as I was on the bus on my way to my friend's son's 21st birthday party on Saturday (where I got blotto on Pimms and champagne cocktails and spent all yesterday being very sick indeed), I felt a tickle on my wrist and looking down, saw there was a flea on it. I grabbed it and tried to squash the life out of it, then texted Mr G, who replied, 'Are you on a hopper bus?' Honestly! (For non-British readers, hopper buses are single deckers that service local routes.) Well, it certainly was hopping, that's for sure!