I'm alone in the house and there are evangelists roaming the street outside. It's like a freaky-ass zombie movie. The old 'bell? What is this door bell of which you speak?' trick has served me well so far.
Last night was pretty good; future-sister-in-law and I managed to find some common ground after all end spent most of the night eating ice cream and talking about horror movies, and swapping real-life ghost stories. Meanwhile, my father and brother were at a folk night. We had to drive them the hour or so there - I'll grudgingly admit that the coast around here does look amazing when the sun goes down over the Irish sea. Of course, on the road home we had to put up with dad and brother singing. I was surprised to find I still know the words of If You're Irish Come Into the Parlour and The Irish Rover and Whiskey in the Jar and the other billion daft traditional songs dad cunningly implanted in our brains as children.
Finished Order of the Phoenix. Not going to comment because
connorbeast hasn't finished it yet.