Ups and downs

Mr Smith, brother of Mr Smith, got me back for the single bed; we had to sleep on the world's most uncomfortable sofa bed on Saturday night.  Never again.  And the loo was in a cupboard.

We went to a very dull party on Saturday night.  Mr Smith only told me on the way there that it was only tea and cakes (canapés).  I was rather cross as I had had my hair done.  I wanted to go home.  We had fun in London on Sunday morning. Then we went to my brother's for my mother's 80th birthday.  It was a yummy lunch and their house is so lovely and full of beautiful things.   My mother was pretty awful to me.  I just ignored her. It was her day so I didn't want to make a scene.

The huge storm blew but it was over quite quickly.  Thank heavens.  Gloriously sunny today.

I am in big trouble at the pub.  It involved a hole in the ground and a misconstrued message.  I think I have sorted it out but not sure.  I think I had better lie low for a few days. I feel very upset by it all.

My new bedroom curtains have arrived. They are too big. But they are gorgeous. A bit like me really.  

First and last?

I have a hangover.  This is the first real hangover I have had since living here.  I thought I was invincible.  I thought I could drink anything in huge amounts and escape the dreaded headache .... Wrong.  It found me.  Ahhhhhggggh.  I have had three very delicate days.  Actually this is the third.  Poor little me.

I have started a painting, a bit half heartedly.  I am just waiting for some sort of miracle to happen and I will somehow get it together.

Mr Smith, brother of Mr Smith, came to stay.  He's coming again.  He likes it here even though we gave him an uncomfortable single bed and no ensuite bathroom.  He is frightfully dictatorial telling me what I am to have etc.  I will have want I want thanks.  I wonder if he would like to stay at the seaside flat next time?

The painters painted the walls the wrong colour.  Some mix up at the paint shop.  It was dark cafe au lait instead of light Elastoplast. It's perfect now.

Strippers

Mr Smith and I finally agreed, after much deliberation and mind changing, on the sitting room curtains.  Then we changed our minds.  So we are rushing off to the shop today before we change them again.

Men are stripping upstairs.  Two old geezers are redecorating rather than visiting Chippendales performing the full Monty in my bedroom. It is going to be blue.  I would prefer a jolly yellow but have selected a calm colour to dull Mr Smith's ardour.

I went to sewing last night which I infinitely prefer to art class.  They are really nice and seem to think I am splendid - frightfully good arrangement!

Liver and flies

My liver aches which might have something to with my permanently pissed state since I arrived here. Detox in hand.  Milk thistle, dandelion, avocado, cranberry juice, water - all good for damaged livers.  Mine will repair.  I got some good pills from the chemist that say they are specially for people who drink a lot of alcohol.  Oh well, no good for me then because I'm planning on not drinking any.

So many stupid flies - one of the hazards of the country.

Town swim

GROWNIGEL - groweling nope I don't think that's the right spelling .... I'll ask the dog.
WINORGGEL - Glowering.  That took me ages.  But I cannot let Mr Smith get one over on me.

Now what do we have planned for today?  Ah yes, work.  Mr Smith will be at work all day so I will be able to get on with something.  We were promised a vile day today but, guess what, it is gorgeous.

I had a lovely day with Claudia.  Roehampton looked different.  You observe things differently if you have been away from them for a while.  The regular patterns are less etched into your brain so see other bits such as previously unobserved roofs of buildings or doorways or facades.  Interesting.  The club itself seemed dull - all too schooly.  Nice lunch, beautiful gardens and it was so nice to spend time with the Lovely Claudia.

I had a bit of a panic on my High Speed Train journey to St Pancras when I suddenly remembered I had forgotten my swimsuit despite packing every other aid to swimming and self beautification.  Pulling the emergency cord and turning the train back seemed a bit tricky as it was going so fast.  I bought a perfectly adequate, if rather filmy, swimsuit at a sports shop at the station.  I think you need to be flat chested and super thin for such a garment.  My big fat self crammed into it - super stretch.

I joined the local sewing group.  Brilliant.  I loved it and will go again next week.  Less arduous that Monday's art class but all these things keep me out of the pub which can only be good.

And so to work.  At long last.

Tall, flat and vacant

Tall Paul didn't take my flat.  He cannot move house right now.  So it is empty.  I was just toying with what to do with it e.g, nice retreat for when I am down at the sea (walkable distance) like a rather expensive beach hut; or maybe an illicit love shack but for notable lack of illicit lover although the gardener seemed quite interested the other day but he is not sexy ... unlike the window cleaner who can rub me down with his shammy leathers whenever he's available; or a golf store for Mr Smith thus leaving our house golf stick free.  However, Sneaky Smith told the estate agent to sell it .... Whose flat? Hint ... Not his!

Capital plans

TENLEICLT what is it?  This is the daily word challenge in the newspaper and Mr Smith has won about five in a row, mainly because I cannot be arsed to do a ghastly anagram along with all the other labours of morning life such as ablutions, dog, kitchen tidy, cramming self into ill fitting clothes and his sodding breakfast.

INTELLECT - Thank goodness I sorted that out.  Now to get on with getting myself organised for my trip to London.  Only 30 mins on the train.  You would think I was going to North Scotland the fuss I am making.  Right.  I need swimming things as I am planning a swim at the mouldy golf club who will not let us resign until the end of the year.  So I may as well get my money's worth.  I am meeting the lovely Claudia there for lunch then we are going shopping.  Oh zippy whippy.  I do not want to look at curtains or wallpapers or light fittings or carpets.  I want to have a lovely day off.

I have put on rather a lot of weight since living here.  It's this heavenly lifestyle.  Must make it more boring immediately - Mr Smith is doing a grand job on that score.  Anyway, I am battling to get my sitting room  decorated then I can have my very own sofa with my very own books on the bookshelves and no bloody telly showing football.  I would ban his horrible desk too but it seems to have taken up residence there.

I love this house.  It is so beautiful.  We are so lucky.  And the weather has been lovely almost every day.

Country Life

"Life is like a penis.  Simple, relaxed and hanging free.  It's the women that make it hard."

 

 I don't see what is wrong with going to pub at 4.30pm and leaving at 11pm.  It seems fine to me.  Just because Pooface wants his tea means I have to leave my diet coke ... Well actually glass of vino ... to cook his bollocksy din dins at 8.30.   

It was a very good dinner amazingly... even if I was squiffy.  It was pasta with lobster ... Real lovely local lobby lobster and I even managed to haul it out of its shell and every thing. I don't think they realised how difficult getting those bits of meat out of their spindly little legs actually was.  I felt like a Cornish fisherman unblocking his hoover.

Well, another lovely day.  Hair is terrific.  All smooth and silky despite morning swim and full wash and blow dry.  Not a frizz in sight.  I now need to get it cut but am afraid as it might hurt.

We went to Ashford Retail Stupid Place after swimming.  Mr Smith picked me up at the spa and we sharpened our credit cards.  I bought total crap.  Two pairs of ill fitting shoes, a coat that makes my arse look even bigger than it is and a whiteboard. The only item I actually wanted was the whiteboard, for teaching my mad Hungarian friend/cleaner's kids English in the vain hope that it may be better than hers.  She has packed up my flat and marked all the boxes but I can't understand anything she has written on them.  "Broken things".  I think she means Fragile. Some of the things she has simply drawn but I have no idea what these strange pieces of nuclear submarine can be.  I think they may be knitting.  I will find out one day.

I spent much of the afternoon cleaning the barbecue.  A boring greasy job.  I made out it was far more arduous and greasier than it actually was - there was an audience.  Then I awarded myself a pub visit as a reward.

Apparently Paul MacKenna tells you to map out your day so you don't bollocks it up.  To be honest mine was probably always going to be big fat croissants, worthy swim, lunatic spending spree, lovely lunch, arduous task, lots of pub.  The only bits that weren't preconsidered were the dutiful marital sex and the lobster dinner.


Annabel

Big big storm

Thunderbolts and lightning very very frightening ..... At least our Mulberry Tree didn't get struck by lightning.  I think that happened sometime ago.  All the lights went out and I was a bit scared.  Mr Smith did not come to see if I was OK in bed but I went to ensure he had a torch - so kind.

I am gradually clearing out our seaside flat with the intention of letting it to a nice tenant.  I hope Tall Paul takes it.  He is a super nice golfing friend of Mr Smith and he is ...very tall.

I have been buying lights for our house.  Mr Smith chooses hideous things that make me want to weep.  I buy crazy antique pineapples and birds' nests.  Well, they're neither but they are that sort of thing.  I have also bought lovely antique wall lights and might buy some more when he isn't looking.

We have really discovered the antique shops of Hythe.  Yesterday we bought loads of junk including a tiny table and a very practical pair of bellows.  I actually went to Hythe to get some canvases for painting.  I just need a bit of application next.  Shall I start painting or clean the barbecue?

I had my hair straightened at vast expense.  It is the Brazilian Blowout where they put some stuff on your hair that stays there for four days then you wash it out and you should have sleek lovely hair that doesn't go frizzy - even in the rain.  We'll see.  Today is wash out day.  I have been walking around with dreadful lank dead straight hair.  To think that's what I wanted all my life.  So there should be a bit of spring back in it but no ghastly uncontrollable Brillo pad effort.

 I am going swimming at my posh spa this morning - well needed exercise as I am rather porky these days due to the delicious meals I keep producing.  It's the whole happy thing - happy house, happy kitchen, happy food.  I need to do some punishment - hard exercise and meagre regime and not
reward myself with the delights of Cadburys or the pub.

We are so very happy here.