So just when I thought B and I were going to Arundel to see Jim in his last performance of 'As You Like It' and 'Merry Wives' reality kicked in.
It is not possible to put a young woman, who has just had two discs removed, in the back of a car for 90 minutes and then expect her to sit in the gardens of Arundel Castle listening to the Bards words. It is not possible to lounge around on a Saturday when the weather is more condusive to whittling and collecting cob nuts, when there is no where to put your crutch.
It is not possible to remain summery and lithe when autumn has kicked in and the daughter, though very much better, is still exhibitng the signs of a six hour operation that happened but three weeks ago.
The result is that I have two lines in my forehead and bags under my eyes that are worthy of an excess baggage claim.
Yesterday, rather than mope about not seeing the thespian 'oosbind strut his stuff in West Sussex, the girl and I went to Uckfield. Paid our money for two tickets and a bag of salty pop corn, took our seats in row 'L' in between girls and boys, and settled down with our red 3D glasses to watch SHREK...
I only nodded off once, otherwise it was a wonderful way to spend an hour and half of quality time.
I felt guilty that I was watching an animated cartoon as opposed to thee dimentional actors giving their all, but Bee and I were satisfied that it was money well spent. I bought a sugar jar from the charity shop for £3.00, a bag of organic apricots and under eye serum from the health shop that cost a fortune and works as well as an expensive rip off can work. Makes my bags look like I am Joan Crawfod wearing an elastic band.
Yesterday my new cleaner did her first day. I am very, very lucky to have a new treasure in my life. She is strong, calm, efficient and we've known her ever since she sold videos in the now defunct VHS video store. My how times have changed.
I have nettles in the garden, perfect for tea. I have comfry in the garden perfect for bones, I have blackberries in the garden perfect for jam and I have a lawn that is ready to be shaved. I may do it tomorrow dependng on the weather.
I have three baskets of ironing in the cellar which I may leave for Bridget, I may, however, just decide to listen some radio and press away my woes. I love it knowing that my show is the backdrop for a lot of pressing needs.
The old man came in late last night, I fed him meatballs in home made sauce and then fell into bed.
The peace and darkness of the cottage is very welcome at the moment. I looked at the moon and the shining star next to it was Mars, I was told. Nonsense said the head of the family, he should know he has better eye sight than me.
This morning I drove the girl to the osteopath. She has movement in her foot of '1' which on a scale of 1-5 is encouraging. I left her sitting in the front seat whilst I dashed round the farmers market for bread and quiches, got home to the father of my child who looked swanky in his brown designer jeans from the charity shop, brogues from a real shoe shop and a blue shirt from a daughter. He set off, after his sausage sandwich on fresh farmers market bread, Bee made herself egg on rye toast, and I had nothing since I had chucked a turn and had a strop.
I broke a cup Bee told me to slow down I took umbridge, and the stress of the last three weeks dribbled out all over the kitchen floor. Which because of my uber energy was scrubbed yesterday by yours truly using VIM. Made me think of my mother. Vim and vigour eh?
The air was cleared but now my eyes feel sticky from crying. But I washed my new eye serum off and now I look less like Joan Crawford and more like Bette Davis. Changed out of my Chinese silk blouse which I stained with blackberry juice whilst picking them, and put on a black vest thingy that can receive stains brilliantly.
I've made all sorts of Ayurvedic goodies because two chuldren and their mother are coming for lunch, although having looked at the time it'll soon be time for Tupper. If Brunch is a late breakfast and an early lunch then Tupper is a late tea and early supper.
The girl is on the computer, the man is dressing up as a clown, the rest of the world is gearing up for a holiday weekend and I'm about to finish my book about a miraculous healer I am interviewing in a couple of weeks. I may just call her and ask for a demonstration of her powers. If she's as good as the book says she is I will return to work ten years younger than when I left.
You lot have a wonderful Bank Holiday, if you manage to get one, and if you've missed your lunch have a good Tupper...
Jeni Barnett tells of her scrumptious time at Good Food Live in her first audiobook! Download NOW from iTunes
Did you hear Tiger changed his name to Cheetah?
Intriguing read. There is certainly currently quite a lot of info all around this subject all around and about about the net and some are most defintely far better than others. You could have caught the detail right here just right which makes for a refreshing change - thanks.
Red Bull is ok, and it works, but it tastes like shit. I much like Rock Star energy drink. It really tastes like a sweet soda pop drink.
omg...elin nordegren is so gorgeous! i can't believe tiger woods would cheat on her!
Hmm, that is some compelling information you've got going. Makes me scratch my head and think. Keep up the good writing!
Um very sweet read..