On Tuesday I talk to a lady called Vitti (must be short for Victoria, surely) about Guy’s band doing a public ceilidh in the Parish Hall at Christmas. They’ve got a Summer Ball next week (the Hall, not the band) and I find myself promising her the bunting to borrow. That’ll be my brand new bunting which I haven’t quite finished then…. When will I learn to keep my big mouth shut? So I make bunting – I cut out lots of triangles (ok, flags) and sew them to lengths of tape. I work out how many triangles I need for 50m of bunting and cut them out. My maths is obviously rusty and I run out of tape WAY before I run out of triangles. Solution? Buy more tape… so on Wednesday night I’m STILL sewing bunting. Getting strangely addicted to it now – but then I run out of triangles before the tape ends. Solution? Cut more triangles. This Could Go On…
Eventually (and luckily) the tape and the triangles run out at the same time (hooray) and I count up how much there is. 103m. That’s a lot of bunting…. And all for about £25 which is a damned sight better value than the Cath Kidston Wedding Bunting on Ebay which was £30 for 2m. Hah! Maybe I can flog it afterwards…. All 103m of it…
On Thursday Guy and I go out for my Birthday Meal. We arrive at the restaurant (which has been booked for 8.15 because they said they were too busy to accommodate us at 8.00) and find it is more than half empty. And it has a Very Odd Smell about it…. Not sure what, but most unpleasant. We stand, ungreeted, in the doorway for a while, then look at each other, agree we don’t like it, and run like hell… Never to return. We go to our local pub instead and have a perfectly lovely meal. I eat lamb shoulder and it’s HUGE. I try really hard, but can’t quite finish it. And no, no starters or pudding – I just can’t ‘do’ desserts.
I also finalise my letter to Zoe, the now ex-hairdresser. One of the lawyers at work sympathises with my plight and looks up the compensation level for brittle hair caused by overbleaching. If I was to sue her, the relevant bracket would be £4,000 - £6,000! BLOODY HELL! My letter promptly gets revised, and I decide to charge her for the out of pocket expenses (cuts, expensive shampoo, conditioning treatments) for the next 4 months, plus £1,000 to go away now – a total of just under £1500. The letter is sent recorded delivery and asks for a response within 7 days. If she doesn’t play ball, I’ll get more legal…
Friday is unremarkable except that I’m tired. I realise I am tired when I go to the loos in Tesco after work and try to dry my hands under the condom machine…
Guy has made a start on my cartoon – we have a life-sized cut-out in MDF of Guy which I made as a surprise for him on his 50th birthday so I have, entirely reasonably, demanded a similar cartoon of me, so that we can have a Guy and a Sarah on the gate as our guests arrive at the party…
And I want to be wearing my yellow wellies…. He produces the rough sketch, which is FAB!
Here’s Guy (the finished cartoon)
And here’s Sarah (the nearly finished draft) I don't have hair because I don't know if I will have hair...
Saturday is exciting because Guy and I go to see his tailor (ooh, that sounds Sooooooooo Posh!) and he has a fitting for his jacket, which is GORGEOUS – it has a Nehru collar and is a lovely sand/gold colour. He also orders trousers and we chat about a waistcoat, but the tailor has no suitable silk in the right sort of colour, so we hoof down to City Road to the sari shop and hunt for silk. We find something in exactly the right colour – sort of gold with a vague paisley pattern. Lovely – and it’s going to go with The Frock beautifully, which of course Guy doesn’t know. Fab shop too – loads of lovely shoes! In the evening Jo and I go to the wedding of Kate, who used to work in the office – and it’s a chance for me to try out my new magic knickers. The old ones were sort of ok, but gave me two waists. The new ones don’t give me two waists… Hurrah! However, they do give me three bottoms. It’s fine if I arrange them and then don’t move. At all. Tricky. I don’t have time to change out of the incredibly fitted blue dress I’d planned to wear, so make a mental note to (a) not move or, (b) failing that, keep my back to the wall. At the reception this proves impossible so I knot my pashmina round my backside instead. Probably looks ridiculous, but I can’t see so decide I don’t mind. And the three large glasses of wine help me to not mind…. Jo drives and on the way home becomes very attracted to Tim, the voice on mum’s satellite navigation system which we borrowed for the evening. Every time he says ‘at the next roundabout, turn right, third exit’ she goes all wobbly… She drops me off at home and I leave her with Tim for the rest of the weekend – least I can do. I hope they’ll be very happy together…
Weight: Hmm. I lost a pound, then regained half of it… and I have been trying, really I have… There’s a limit to how many avocados a girl can eat though, and I think I am Full Of Avocados. Will try harder this week.
Bruises: Hardly any, and the scratches from last week’s hedge trimming faded nicely, just in time to be replaced by scratches from cutting up Guy’s spiky tree which he pruned after it poked him once too often. Those scratches have faded nicely now too, but I have a spectacular rash up my arms from all the goose grass I pulled up on Sunday afternoon…
Hair: Looking better! The incredibly expensive trichology hair products arrived – they smell like leg embrocation, so they must be good. My hair is a bit shinier and slightly more manageable. But still short and broken. I check the Royal Mail web site and find that the letter was delivered on Friday – fingers crossed!
Nails: I glued and filed down the bust one – and it’s absolutely fine. OK, so the nail varnish is a bit lumpy but if I keep waving my hands around no-one will notice. However, I really should wear gloves when gardening…. Hands now as rough as sandpaper.
Cake: Didn’t have to do anything to it this week, but I do have 103m of bunting instead. Almost as good as cake. Except that you can’t eat it, obviously.
Roses: Still alive, and now being FED too. Nice note on rose boxes when they arrived – ‘Roses are like people, they like food and drink.’ Gin, anyone?
Plan for the week: Make ‘proper’ (well, as proper as we’re going to get) wedding invites for the ceremony on the Friday. I’ve mocked something up involving a bit of Guy’s waistcoat fabric on a bunting theme…. Themed like a good idea at the time.
No comments:
Post a Comment