Wednesday, 7 October 2015

Extreme Sport

Oh my God... I think I'm becoming addicted to shopping!   This has never happened to me EVER!...  Up until last month, at least 90% of my wardrobe was over 5 years old with at least 75% of that being over ten years old and 100% of it was mud stained jeans and off white (by which I mean, badly washed so they turn grey) tee shirts.    I blame this new occurrence on two things.   The first, and what probably started me off on this line of thinking, was the promise of our new life.  Post farm, I picture myself as a stylish, sassy, thin (not quite sure how I'm going to achieve that) woman, who showers EVERY day and wears make up EVERY day.    I got this idea from one of the estate agents who showed me around a house.  Ianthe, her name was, which should tell you all you need to know.  She turned up in her little, sporty Audi in skinny jeans, very high heeled open toed slingbacks, an extremely expensive silk shirt and a rock chick type leather jacket... well, I was impressed.   Obviously, it looked like she'd hadn't had a proper meal for the last twenty years but other than that, I thought to myself that one day, I would take more care in my appearance.  I, too, would look like Ianthe... and so the shopping seed was sown.

The second thing was a weekend visit from some lovely old friends of ours.   So as not to embarrass anyone, names have been changed, but my God, can Lesley Madigan shop!  Whilst the men were holed up in a pub in Nailsworth watching the rugby world cup, me, Lesley and her daughter, Isla, quietly spent the equivalent of the UK's national debt.  It was fab!   I wasn't even going to take my wallet... what a mistake that would have been!  As a result I walked away with a lovely shimmery evening top (not me at all, but very Ianthe and I love it!), a gorgeous cashmere poncho and a solid silver necklace.    I have always admired how Lesley dresses, she is one of those women who look effortlessly fabulous.  Not like Ianthe, who looks like she has taken hours to get ready and tried on 15 different outfits before plumping for the one she's in, Lesley just looks fab...even in her bloody pyjamas.    So now, whenever I go shopping I think to myself 'What would Lesley do?'   Invariably, the answer is 'Buy It!'

Of course, there is a small issue of funds that have to be addressed.   But in my mind, you see, we've already moved.   We no longer have the financial burden of a mahooosive mortgage coupled with years and years of intensive building and repair works to a run down mill.... in my head.    I know that these things will come to pass and in my more sensible moments realise it might be a good thing to wait until we are actually there, but who knew this could be so much fun!   Certainly, no one told me!

I have a history of jumping ahead of myself.   Years ago I went for an audition to be a contestant on 'Deal or No Deal'.    HA!  How times have changed - we don't even have a telly anymore.   Anyway, what they do, is give you a interview in front of a camera.   Well, to say I was nervous was a bit of an understatement and unfortunately when I get nervous I a. giggle profusely and b. have an exaggerated attack of verbal diarrhoea.   In amongst this 5 minute interview with me grinning inanely at the camera and occasionally spluttering into a fit of giggles, one of the questions was 'And if you won the £25,000 box, what would you spend the money on?'
'Oh, easy!'  I replied.   'I've already spent it!'
'Really??' said the interviewer in a very surprised tone.  'What on?'
'A kitchen extension, a fancy 'up in the air' hen house for my chickens, a mini polytunnel...' I whittled down the list quite quickly in a slightly deranged way.
'Oh, OK.  Errmmmm.   Well!   That's great!  I think we have all we need!  Thanks!'
It was only as I was on the train on the way home that I realised I forgot to say '..in my head.   I've already spent it, in my head.'   Needless to say they never called.  They were probably worried that I might try and sue if I didn't win.

Obviously, I can only tell you of my new hobby in the solid knowledge of the fact that my husband never reads my blogs.   He'd have a fit if he knew (as would Lesleys, I suspect), but do you know?  That's part of the fun.   It's like an extreme sport.    I've just brought a new pair of boots, a leather jacket and a chunky jumper on the internet.   I can only pray that it arrives when Olly is not here so that I can pretend that they are really old items of clothing that I've just taken out of retirement - the leather jacket may be a little tricky but I should be able to pull the wool over his eyes with the jumper!  ......Get it??   Never mind!

Thursday, 1 October 2015

Bad day made good..


I’m having a shit day.     For reasons I can’t go into on here, life is not going exactly as planned.  It’s obviously not shit, shit... you know, I’ve got three H’s: Health, Home and Husband but it’s just a little rubbish.   So I have done what any self respecting person would do in my position.  First, I went to The Edge Cafe in Wotton and ate cake.   Secondly, with not a cloud in the sky, I went home got in the truck and drove it as fast as I dare around the fields.... guaranteed to put a smile on anyone’s face.  I don’t know what it is, but somehow, driving on grass is infinitely more fun than a road, if you add to that a bit of speed and a hidden bump, you have a divine recipe for a smile.   I am now in the middle of Buttercup Field, lying on a rug, typing this blog with the dog rolling around in the grass like a lune... b.e.a.u.t.i.f.u.l.    Even better, my husband has just called to ask where I am as he’s got home early.   Maybe this day isn’t so bad after all!   Although, he did ask what I was doing, which means his perception of me not doing a stitch of work is only going to be magnified ten fold!

...... It is now an hour or so later and my husband, having an equally shit day, thought it might lift our spirits to go and watch Fiji vs Wales in the Rugby World Cup at the local pub.    As it’s such a nice day, we decided to watch it in the smokers bit outside which also has a television.  We brought our pints and sat down in front of a large TV screen under a wooden structure which totally reminded me of a bar in the Costa Del Sol... I’ve never been to a bar in the Costa Del Sol, but I can imagine, that if I had, this is what it would be like.   
 
Even better, we both have our laptops in front of us and are busy going through emails and other such business things (my husband) or writing shit that’s in my head (me).  As a result, we look like a couple of Yuppies, in a bar in Costa Del Sol.     I can’t actually remember what Yuppie stood for.... I think it was Young Up and coming Professional... which means I am not a Yuppie.    I am not young.   I’m not up and coming and I’m definitely not professional.   What would I be?  MUFF????   Middle aged, Unsure of Future, Female??    That could be misleading... not the full version but the acronym.   “Hi, I’m a MUFF!”   I’ll use that as a conversation starter at the next drinks party I go to and let you know how I get on.

Talking of drinks parties – we don’t go to that many anymore but used to in our last village (and hopefully again!).  If we were ever invited to a party where we didn’t know anyone, Olly and I would play a little game.  Before we left we picked 5 words for each other.   Mine for Olly might be, for example, “Venereal Disease, Moist, Snatch, Anorack.”   Olly would then have to, in front of me, incorporate all of the words into one conversation with the same person.   I know it doesn’t sound like fun, but it’s actually hilarious!  We didn’t make that many new friends at these parties mind you, which is one downfall.    In fact, my husband has just reminded me of a time we were invited to Reading and Leeds Festival by our lovely friends Emma and Gareth.   Just as we got through the gates, Olly got a call from the BBC saying they would like to interview him live on the Six O’Clock News.   He had to leave immediately to catch a train into London, buying a shirt and tie along the way (doesn’t matter what’s under the desk), but before he went, Gareth told him he had to get the word “moist” into the interview.   If you could ever look up that interview, (which a. You can’t and b. You really wouldn’t want to) you will see my husband smirk, ever so slightly, as he explains how rats need water.    He has also made it his personal challenge to mention the word “moist” in any interview, press release, public statement of any kind in honour of that day.

Well, that’s it from me.. it’s the second half and although I am sure the Welsh are going to win, I would like to cheer Fiji on for a little bit.   Until next time!!  xx

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