A few quick words before bed (remember, that timestamp isn't accurate for some reason - it's actually 00:45 on Friday morning, have been up chatting on MSN for hours).
SHE'S BACK TOMORROW! And once again all will be well - can't tell you how much I'm looking forwards to seeing her again - I've tried to downplay it a bit for the sake of a less sugary blog read but there you go - sugary warts and all. Ewww. So my beloved will be on a plane right about now, heading for touchdown about the time I wake up tomorrow.
This week has seemed reasonably productive, in the way that a month spent prising a teeny diamond out of solid rock seems productive. It's been mighty intense, tricky and we feel like we're moving forwards in measurements of millimetres, but at least we're moving forwards. Final presentation minus two weeks.
Marigold update: they're now such monsters they're falling over in light breezes. I've had to wedge the pot up with the Kiwi's herb trough. I'm a victim of my own success, I think.
Other stuff - had two significantly ego-puncturing moments recently:
1. Walking down High St Kensington with the Kiwi, woman strides up to her thrusting a leaflet and says "do you need your eyes testing, love?"
2. Bought two pairs of trousers later that day, the only two out of several my size I tried on to fit me. Later noted that both pairs have no fewer than four (four!) trusses and fastenings intended to keep my burgeoning beer baby in check.
My only conclusion: I *am* the rightful heir to Jabba the Hutt's throne. Might as well learn to wash myself with a rag on a stick right now.
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3 comments:
I tell you the worst ego-puncturing moment if you're a girl, and that happened to me on holiday recently. We had made friends briefly with a lovely old Italian taxi driver, in his 60s I reckon, who spoke not a word of English. Imagine my mortification when on lugging our massive rucksacks out of the boot of the cab at Rome Termini station, he beamed at me, pointed to my belly, and said with a twinkle in his eye 'Bambino??' Now, I know we had overdone it on the Tuscan vino over the previous 10 days, but come on...
Another ego-puncturing fact for you (both)... This interest in gardening seems to indicate the passing of time... You know you're getting old when:
1) you start admiring the hanging baskets at your local pub
2) get excited about buying a new lawn mower
3) keep your old trainers because they'll be great for the garden.
Ah, the rock'n'roll days...
how did the fashion thing go? glad to hear sonia's back. heard owt from virgin?
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