Weekend in a jar

This weekend I took a lot of photos.
I walked up an down a steep cobbled hill, ate some lemon drizzle cake and went into an apothecary. (Apothecaries are about a million times cooler than regular chemists, because one, they have things in cool jars and bottles and two, saying the word apothecary makes me feel like I'm in Harry Potter.)
This weekend we wandered around a really old cemetery and I took some photos of that too. I'm not sure if the fact that I'm married to a funeral director makes that activity more, or less creepy. I'm going to hope for less, definitely less.
This weekend I may have reignited an old flame. Me and 24. One episode and I'm drawn back in, like a sucker. This is definitely not a good thing, because I have 15 deadlines in 17 weeks. Oh please, kill me now - writing that down makes me want to lock myself in room with my good friends Ben & Jerry and never come out.
This weekend I did a lot of baking and cooking. Pizza, chicken and leek pie, bread, honey bars, brownies and bread. Did I already say bread? I am stuffed until Christmas. Apart from the hole I have for my friends. (Ben & Jerry, I don't go around just eating any old friends.)
This weekend I watched a lot of general conference. (Insert sentences on generally being uplifted and inspired here.) I promise I listened to the actual talks, but one of my favourite things was pointing out every time the Spanish guy mixed up his b's and v's. Oh, and I'm often the first to poke fun at the MoTab, but when they sang I Believe in Christ, I humbled and rebuked. Forever.

This is probably the lamest thing that I have ever written. But I'm tired. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
Amen.