Tonight my friend Emma wanted to ride her horse for half an hour - but she had nobody to keep an eye on her baby, Phoebe (named after my horse). I volunteered and had soooo much fun!!! I taught her to clap her hands while I said 'bish bash bosh' and then thow her arms out wide and cheer!!! Then she kissed me...aaaaagh!!! She's ace. I took photos on my mobile phone and even though I'm a complete tech-dullard I have managed to post a picture here!!!
When I moved down to Surrey two winters ago I was always remarking on how much warmer it is down here. Usually it's about 5-6 degrees C warmer, and that makes a big difference. Today I felt cold for the first time, and was wimpering about it like I used to when I lived in Sheffield. I think I have turned into a southern softy. This means that I cannot visit home again until about April.
Last night I watched the Rugby World Cup Final - along with millions of others. I have no idea of the rules of the game and didn't understand what was going on - but no matter - there were enough big male thighs to keep me entertained for hours. I did, however marvel at the sportsmanship. When England's try was disallowed (which could have won us the game) there were no tantrums from the players, or indeed the commentators. They accepted it with good grace - can you imagine if that had been football? I love the fact that the referee regularly steps in and tells the players what they can't do, and they just listen to him, nod and get on with the game. There were bloody cuts and gashes, but no theatrical throwing themselves to the ground - screaming in agony in a peformance worthy of an oscar. NO, these strong men of rugby just get up, and get on with it!!! I loved it, and it totally restored my belief in sportsmanship. I don't really know but suspect that Rugby players don't earn a tenth of what professional footballers earn, but in my opinion they are worth ten times more. By the end of the game I was kind of getting the hang of the way the game is played (but maybe not!) Never the less I am converted (subtle joke!). So this morning I have changed my Christmas preesent list. I no longer want a David Beckham calendar, no, no, no...Now I want a Johnny Wilkinson Calendar. .....and they didn't lose....they came second. Well done South Africa, and well done England.
Yesterday I wore the wrong trousers. I hadn't done any laundry and was down to my last pair...a pleated at the top, narrow at the bottom crepe pair of a dogy mustard colour. Before I left for work I had one of those moments when I absolutely knew that I was doing the completely wrong thing by wearing them. People at work were looking me up and down (y'know how they do!) and barely managing to conceal the amusement / bemusement / horror from their faces. I was oblivious until I went with Jo to John lewis at lunchtime to help her choose a deep fat fryer (she's got to have chips ever since I made them for her a few weeks ago), and walked past a full length window and saw my reflection. I have to tell you - the trousers were horrific. My lovely colleagues were sending me pictures of MC Hammer all afternoon. I was upset - but it was VERY funny. I went home and Cressie turned up ten minutes later...driving down the drive with "Can't touch this.." by the afore mentioned rapper blaring out on her stereo. For all those of you who care - I can report that I have thrown the said trousers in the bin. Never again will they see the light of day. POSTSCRIPT. I have had those trousers for a good few years and I really liked them in their day. Although I recognise the need to dispose of them, I am very sad. I couldn't stand another day of the humiliation I suffered yesterday. People can be so cruel :)
Tonight I spoke to my best friend Jacqui up in Sheffield. When we lived near each other we used to spend every Friday and Tuesday together, and now that I live down South I hardly ever see her anymore. This makes me sad. However, when we manage to catch up on the phone we spend about an hour rabbiting away to each other (tonight's call was 57 minutes, and her husband managed to go and fetch a curry during the chat!) Anyway, she wanted to know what Dan's new horse - Rupert - looked like - so here's a picture of Dan and Rupert especially for Jacqui.
The Doddery old Gimmer has just 'phoned. He tells me that it was his wife's car he was driving, and he's not sure if he's actually insured to drive it. Would it be alright if he just sent me a cheque to pay for my damage? Would that cheque include enough to hire a funky little sports car for me to drive around in for a couple of weeks while my FLSC is fixed? Oh No, he's not made of money...came the reply. You see, it's not only 17 year old boy racers that drive around on our roads with no insurance - now pensioners have taken it up too. Fan - Bleeding - Tastic. No wonder he didn't want me to 'phone the police. Can you imagine the ensuing car chase around Esher? You've got to laugh........It's a good job that some of us responsible citizens do the right thing - like having a license, road tax, insurance. In future don't let those pensioners get away with 'that look' they give you ...you know the one...not in my day, law abiding citizens...yaddah yaddah. Don't be fooled by the folded checked picnic blanket on the parcel shelf, and the pork pie hat with Mrs wearing a rain hood. They're criminals.....I tell you...borrowing their friend's disabled passes so that they can park nearer the door at Tesco. Put them in a home:)
I had my appointment at Guildford Hospital yesterday. The consultant took one look at the ILM and said it was a 'halo nevus' and absolutely nothing to worry about. That's alright for her to say. I have worried about ILM for nigh on 6 weeks and she just dismissed it with one glance. She clearly didn't realise what I had been through. As I walked back to the car I was mightily relieved that it was nothing, but also a bit disappointed that there are no prescriptions for retrospective worry, not even a cup of tea and a biscuit, no soothing words, no empathy, nothing. I felt a bit cheated!!! The NHS have another statistic for 'clear up rates' (is it like crime?) and I am left with nothing!!! Not even a buckshee day off work for my trauma. Pah.
I know this for a fact because on my way home from the office an hour ago - some doddery old gimmer smashed into the side of my lovely little sports car. He's has mashed the door and the window is all smashed - I had glass in my bra!!! I was a wee bit annoyed and called him some very choice names but it's okay because he couldn't hear me - and I'm not kidding! I asked him why he had pulled out of the side road when the way wasn't clear (crawling traffic doing 5mph - clearly no gap) and he said he pulled out because he's been waiting for ages. That must be a new rule in the highway code then...."If you have had to wait for ages, it's then okay to just pull out - because no-one should have to wait for ages!" He probably didn't want to wait for too long because he's probably not got long left!!!!
I'm not being ageist here but I really do feel that 91 is too old to be driving a dangerous motor vehicle. The chap could hardly walk, couldn't hear and was wearing really thick glasses. Luckily nobody was hurt, but they could have been. In fact they nearly were as it took every ounce of self control that I could muster not to put my hands around his scrawny little throat. My Mum is 70 and still driving, and that worries me - but 91.....I wouldn't feel happy about a 91 year old boiling a kettle without supervision, let alone driving on a main road.
My insurance company have been briliant and my hire car is on its way as I type this, but it would have been better if I'd never had to make the claim. If a political party would like to put legislation against doddery old gimmers keeping their driving licenses in their manifesto - they'd have my vote. After all, don't they get a free bus pass that I, as a tax payer am paying for? Well they should bloody well use that then and sell the car.
I bought three houseplants from Ikea back in the spring. They sit on my kitchen window ledge. They haven't really grown throughout the last 6 months, but they haven't died either - which for me is a small victory over botany. Now, all of a sudden they are enjoying a big growth spurt. At least a few inches over the last week. I'm confused as it's cooler and darker now we're half way though October. Has anyone read 'Day of the Triffids' by John Wyndham?
I can hear the rain...... through my window, bringing back sweet memories.
That is the line from a random song from the 70's. But Oh my God it's so true. The rain bit I mean, not the memories. It's absolutely lamping it down outside. Once again, Ladies and Gentlemen of Surrey, I give you precipitation......!!! There really can't be much water left in the world as it's all falling on Surrey. Because it's all the same water that just keeps getting circulated around the globe, somebody somewhere is having a very dry time right now. Instead of thinking what new car to get in March next year perhaps I'll just get a canoe and a paddle.
Phoebe and I entered the dressage part of a mini one day event at the riding school next door. (We are still confined to barracks because of foot and mouth). We chose to do the three dressage elements and lo and behold were placed third in one section. We also achieved a respectable 4th and 6th place too!!!! We got a medal - see photo!! Yesterday was spent plaiting Phoebe's mane and tail - and yes - it took almost the whole day...seeing as I've never done it before. I'm told that accomplished 'plaiters' can do it in under an hour but I really don't see how!!! Doesn't she look lovely? and isn't the rider very smart? !!!!
Because of Foot and Mouth still being an issue down here in leafy Surrey - yes, we're still in the zone...even though the rest of the country has forgotton all about it by now - the lady who runs the riding school next door is holding a competition on Sunday. I have entered, and I shall have to ride 3 dressage tests in reasonably quick succession. What with the alzheimers I find it nigh on impossible to remember one dressage test let alone three. I don't stand a chance. ;)
There's this girl I know who I may have mentioned before. We know her as Chesney (fondly named after the young boy in Coronation Street). I have to see this girl nearly every day and she's always asking me to write about her on this blog. So here you are Chesney - your moment of fame.
She's a bit of a prankster and is always trying to find ways to wind me up. She (fondly) calls me 'the old lady who lives in the shoe' (I have no idea..?), and is always referring disparagingly to my age. A few weeks ago she left a horse's head in my bed, and is forever doing cruel and aggressive things to me on facebook...it's a good job facebook is only virtual or else I would be dead by now.
Tonight she tried to wind me up again by hiding my kitchen implements...could I locate my mini-grater which I use for parmesan? or my sharpest chef's knife? Eventually I discovered them in my fridge. I think she thought that was funny. Anyway I have it on very good authority that Chesney is terrified of spiders. Tonight I have located a website where you can buy arachnids and I'm thinking of ordering her a pet spider. I'm just not sure which sort - a tarantula, or maybe a mexican bird eater. In the meantime here's a picture for Chesney. Of course she won't know when the spider arrives, and I will SURPRISE her with it. Chesney - this is war.
Dan has just 'phoned. Her new horse arrived earlier this week and it's all going very well. He's quite sweet and hasn't misbehaved at all - yet - but there's still time. She has given him a new name. It's quite common to give a horse a new name. I often think the same thing should be applied to boyfriends..."yes, you're cute Brian, but would it be okay if I called you Rodger?, and you can call me Desiree!" Anyway the name she's chosen is 'Rupert". No doubt this will get shortened over time to "Roo". I don't quite get it myself, but sometimes a name just suits a horse. When I got Phoebe she was called Pebbles and that so didn't suit her, but Phoebe is absolutely right for her. (I just changed three letters). Anyway - when I finally see this horse I'll let you know if he suits his new name. He's the most expensive thing I've ever bought and I've never even seen so much as a photograph of him!
I always used to be really clean and tidy around the house. It's my army training and my utter need for control. But just lately I can't be bothered. Right now there are dirty pots and dishes from 3 days ago in the kitchen, and books and magazines strewn all over the floor. There's also a load of clean clothes piled up on the back of the sofa awaiting being ironed, and they've been there for a whole week. I had 2 bunches of flowers for my birthday 2 weeks ago, and they were still in vases on the coffee table, but they had dried up and the water had gone all smelly (ugh). When I got home last night the flowers had gone. Jo and Cressy had sorted it out because they needed the vases for flowers for the rest of the main house. So that kind of proves a theory, that is if you leave your mess long enough someone will come round ond day and sort it out. Now I know where my ex-husband was coming from, and where teenagers and most blokes get their ideas from. I wonder who will come and do the ironing?
Yesterday was a lovely day. I went up to 'town' (that's London for those of you who aren't in the know) to meet my lovely Auntie Mimi (Mum's twin sister) to do Harrods. We had a lovely wander round the designer clothes saying 'How Much?...!!!!" and I tried on the most beautiful jacket ever made. It was rabbit fur (boo hiss) and dyed all the colours of the rainbow. It fitted perfectly and looked a million dollars - it was bargain at £2 grand!!!! Now, obviously I would never spend that much on a jacket - EVER - and I would never wear fur, but just for a moment it was very decadent to try it on. We had a look at the deisgner wedding dresses - no, no, no, I'm not getting married again, and then moved onto shoes and handbags and sunglasses. It was fabulous and a very girly day out. We had lunch at the Terrace restaurant on the 4th floor and I had steak and chips. Best piece of steak I think I've ever tasted.
We moved downstairs to the foodhall and bought Uncle David (who'd been left behind in the caravan in Hemel Hempstead) a nice box of handmade chocolates all tasting of yummy puddings...apple crumble, jam roly poly, bananas and custard...so I hope he enjoys those.
Last night I went out for supper with Lisa, Geoff, Emma and Emma and Paul to Giraffe for a burger. That was great fun too. So yesterday I tried on a fur coat, had steak, and had a burger. No animal rights around here!!...Oh yes, and I was wearing leather shoes and carrying a leather handbag and purse. Vegetarians and Vegans...pah.