What light through yonder window breaks? It's a train coming to kill me.

Oh Monday, what joys will you bring today?

Mother hath arrived and will be cooking lamb shank soup tonight.  Though since my sister did not gush with excitment at the prospect, but instead said "yeah, that sounds good", perhaps she won't.  It wasn't the response mother had wished for.  What mother wanted was "oh that would be awesome.  i looooove lamb shank soup.  i haven't had that for years." or something to that effect.  A mere, yeah that sounds good, from the person whose home and kitchen she is invading (and no doubt sledging in a mutter loud enough to be heard in the loungeroom - which was what happened last time she was here -because sister doesn't do things exactly the way mother does them - who knew cooking rice could be so controversial?) means that perhaps she will do the long suffering sad cooking of something completely different or perhaps even just fish and chips takeaway, with a teary 'you don't like my cooking' and more comments regarding the diet of her grandchildren ...

Who knows?
Anything could happen.
It may even be pleasant.
That's happened once or twice.
Last night was quite nice after all.
It  could be great.
Right?
Right?

(of course there wouldn't be a train coming through a window - that is just silly)