Mormonics

Tonight we, family Smith including Mr Smith, are going to become Mormons.  No we're not; we are going to the theatre to see The Book of Mormon.  It was one of Glen the Good's magnificent deals which meant we pay more to sit in worse seats!  He means well.

Our trip to Goa all seems to be going well.  Glen the Good was about to book stinky airways to save 3p.  I decided there was absolutely no way the lovely Naomi with kidney dialysis is doing that so I booked them on British Lovely Airways in the nice seats (Premium Economy) with a hope they will get bumped up to either business or first class.  They were also staying in some grotty apartments until I suggested they stay in Hotel Posh with us.  I have to hand it to the chap, he magically got a massive reduction in price.  There are seven of us going so far.  Positive coach party!

Broom broom woof woof.

My car went to the vet; my dog didn't.  The service for my Mercedes cost a million pounds; I very nearly cried.  I was so angry at the £990 bill that I forgot to take the dog to the vet.

Too much drinking is going on here.  Mr Smith is almost as bad as Mrs Smith.  On Monday he was fantastically drunk and fell down on his return from the pub into a box of lampshades which I can assure you was not very good for the lampshades.

Don the Decorator is taking a Forth Bridge approach to painting our bookshelves.  Many a layer has been necessary. I would like to wait a week for the paint to be really non sticky before putting books all over them.  The problem with this is I will be away and Mr Smith will be left to organise the books.  I have to say they do look splendid; It's a shame they are only going to house a few copies of Wisden and the odd Mickey Spillane.

And now it is painting time.  I am off to Nevis on Tuesday.  I must try and get my painting done as best I can.  The more I do now the less I have to do there and the more I can enjoy myself. I mean all work no play makes Jill a boring cow.

All sorts sorted

We sorted out the mad woman downstairs at the seaside flat.  She just needed a man to go "there there we will sort it all out for you".  I sent two.  My husband and Damp Proof Mark went to her flat and did their stuff.  She is now placated.  I did not visit her for fear I would tell her what I thought of her and her very rude threatening manner.  How dare she frighten my Mr Smith like that with her nasty aggressive tone.  She is off our Christmas list.

Our sitting room is finished but for a curtain and a radiator.  So it is freezing cold and very echoey.  My new sofa in my sitting room is proving very popular, especially with the dog.  I have hardly had a look in.  I am desperate for the shelves to be decorated so we can get our books out of their boxes.

Last night was Girls' Night Out.  It was extremely good fun, we bopped til we dropped, we drank a lot, we danced around a handbag and were thoroughly silly.  Naomi looked like a radiant little fairy.  It was really her party.  She is dying and I keep forgetting as she is such fun and so vibrant; she lives every day as though it is her last.  When "On top of the World" was played she cried. She just felt on top of the world surrounded by friends having what could be her last girls' night out.

Mr Smith and I are going on jolly holiday to India with Naomi and Glen the Good in January.  Given it could be her last holiday, we are all staying in Goa's most beautiful hotel.  I am so excited but I am terrified for Naomi as she is incredibly ill awaiting a kidney transplant.  This will be her last holiday before the operation and there is a very likely chance that she will die on the operating table.  Our lives have already been touched by Naomi in a lovely way as she is terrific fun and we adore her although we have only lived here for three months.  God, I hope she makes it through.

My latest diet hasn't worked.  Much deprivation just to stay the same stupid weight.  My scales might be a bit dodgy.  I need to stop boozing.  I will do it.

Damp squibs

We have a flood.  Our radiators have been removed so the painters can paint behind them but water is gushing out of their pipes and flooding our cellar.  I mop as I write.  Well, Mr Smith empties buckets and cossets his wine as I mop and find an old towel.

Our neighbour downstairs at the seaside flat is being a monster woman.  She is trying to scupper our sale which is very mean.  Especially as we have tried hard to help her sort out her damp problem.  She has left it for ages and refused all help so far.  I despair and Mr Smith is rather cross.  He thinks this is all my fault.  It probably is.

We have planned a little holiday.  We are going to Goa in January with Glen the Good.  It seems loads of people from Kent will be there.  Home from home as the village decamps to India.  So glad we have been included.

Now to battle on with getting an Indian Visa.  Names and professions of grandparents?  Were they nationalised by birth?  What is their designation?  What?????  Oh, why doesn't someone rewrite this form?

Whizz bangs

We went to Rye Bonfire festival and it was wonderful.  Mr Smith had his poo face on because we had a long wait for the torchlit parade.  It was all quite medieval with a glorious fire breathing dragon at the end.  The parade ended with torches being thrown onto the enormous bonfire followed by spectacular fireworks.  We ended up in a pub with a lot of roman soldiers in full armour and other revellers.  It was fun.  We then came home to singing in the pub - loudly.

We are planning a trip to Goa.  It looks most exotic.  I thought it all looked rather expensive until I realised a rupee is only 1p.  Even I can work out the exchange on that.

My new pale blue sofa, which is ridiculously too big for the room, is just the most comfortable squidgiest sofa ever.  It is also very elegant.  The dog is eyeing it up as new day bed ... I think not.  It is mine.  I have banned all tv watching from my new sitting room/library which is great in theory but I am bored now.  It's all very well designing your house like a magazine but it isn't entirely practical.

Totally brill weekend

Oh we had such fun and drank far too much and had monster hangovers and walked on the beach at Dungeness to blow away our cobwebs.  They stayed til Monday afternoon which was an added bonus except our house was back to a building site as usual.  It only manages to look respectable and workmen free at the weekends.

My poor dog has been diagnosed with Cushings Disease.  He is rather ill.  The vet will make him better.  His legs are skinny and his tummy is round.  He huffs and puffs a lot and can hardly walk.  We just thought he was getting on a bit.  What dreadful neglectful owners and, actually, shockingly bad London vet.  Poor woof.

Less Smiths more others

I have cleared out some Smiths and am replacing them with MY friends.  These are my slightly flakey lovely friends who are not brilliant at getting their act together so will probably arrive rather late without their hairbrushes.  They are quite the messiest people I know but they are brilliantly good fun and my life would never have been so enjoyable had I never met them.

What an odd day.  It keeps changing from glorious summer to blustery autumn every five minutes.  It will probably rain soon.  I so hope not as we have a firework party to attend tonight.  Something called The Obliterator is set to go off over our house at 9pm.  I hate fireworks. Mr Smith hates them more than me.  The dog hates them most of all.

Right, better resurrect my rather flat cake and hide the brick that came out of the bread maker; I will eat it.. I can only think there was a yeast issue.

I have developed a liking for Sloe gin.  It really helps with my cough and is much nicer than Benylin.  I'm fast becoming one of those old ladies on the gin.  Lovely.  Mr Smith so disapproves.

Too many Smiths

This house is designed for lots of people.  However, 6 people, a dog and a cough are too much for me to cope with.  Our youngest son is rude and awful and now 24.  I ate the remains of his birthday cake for breakfast.  November diet is going well!  I was going to wash it down with a glass of Sloe gin (medicinal for my awful cough) but Mr Smith was watching.  I'll have some for elevenses.

All birthdays are now dealt with.  Mrs Smith Mother of Mr Smith enjoyed hers.  She bought me a floor polisher which should arrive today.  I know it was her birthday not mine but it is a house warming present.  For someone who refuses to use the Internet she absolutely loves Internet shopping and shiny floors.

Our kitchen cupboards and dog have been painted.  All white and lovely.  A carpenter is carpenting and we should have somewhere to store our books soon other than in the cloakroom, the dining room and sitting room, upstairs in various rooms and in the kitchen.

Grouchy old Poo Face, Mr Smith, is being dragged to the cinema today to see Captain Phillips.  I was looking forward to a film about a foggy chap who married into the royal family but then got dumped. Apparently it is about pirates.  Oooh I do love a swashbuckler.  Oh no, it is about Somalian pirates who don't wear pretty clothes or have parrots.  It sounds a bit boring.  Having made such a scene about Mr Smith party pooping everything all the time I am pretending to be really enthusiastic.  Yeah, but I enjoy an outing and maybe I can get some longer curtain poles whilst we are in town.

I bought a spider outfit for tonight's Halloween Party but I feel a bit ill so maybe I will just get Mr Smith to wear it.   I jest.  The Apprentice (eldest son) will probably wear it then knock things over with all those arms and legs. I will go as a devil woman ..... Myself.