There are three elements required for a Bank Holiday weekend to be counted as truly British.
1. A BBQ
2. A spot of DIY
3. Traffic jams
If measuring my own personal weekend by these conditions then it can be determined that my Bank Holiday weekend was 55% British. The calculations necessary to come to this number are both numerous and complicated and so I will mercifully spare you the details. Suffice to say that the percentage was damaged by a lack of car journeys but assisted by the consumption of not one, but two barbeques. How do you spell barbeque? According to Microsoft both barbeque and barbecue are acceptable. Blogger doesn't like it being spelt with a 'q'. No wonder we shorten it to BBQ so often. I've now got to the point where the word barbeque/cue has lost all meaning.
The do-it-yourself element of my weekend was rather a case of DIY by proxy. A DVD/CD storage unit was purchased by my good self from the wonder that is Argos. Please note the heavy sarcasm in that statement. My dad is no slouch when it comes to flat pack furniture and the like, but I have never heard him emit such distressed noises as when he surveyed the ridiculous number of pieces that this seemingly simple shelved unit required. Since when did you need to be professional mechanic to put together an Argos product? Surely this defeats the whole point of the flat pack business? If it had just been my mum and I then I've no doubt we would still be on the floor of my room 48 hours later, making various anguished cries reminiscent of a Wookie. Thankfully my dad is made of sterner stuff and was able to finally declare victory a mere 24 hours after purchase. On the plus side, this experience has enabled me to indentify a definite gap in the labour market. There is surely a call for professional flat-pack-furniture assemblers. Anyone with the necessary skills should apply to Giraffe-a-licious, c/o Blogger. I look forward to hearing from you.