I've been re-reading Nina Stibbe's book 'Love Nina.' Have you read it? I rarely laugh out loud at books. Bill Bryson and Jason Sedaris make me giggle. The Adrian Mole books too. Anyway, you know that it's a good one, when you keep quoting bits from it to your nearest and dearest. For example:
Stella was worried she'd be late (9 am start). I said I'd ring her just as I left NW1 to wake her and give plenty of time to get in. Which I did. She turned up looking flustered, ten minutes into it -
we were discussing 'Why comedy matters' unfortunately.
Me: How come you're late? I gave you an alarm call.
Stella: My kimono sleeve caught fire on the grill pan.
Me: what were you cooking?
Stella: I was lighting a fag.
After the fifth consecutive quote yesterday morning, Marc turned to me and said "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for Emma's wedding party?" Well of course I was, but I never see any point in taking too long over these things. The blue, slightly Amish looking dress that I had planed to wear hadn't arrived (it plopped through the letterbox this morning), and so I wore a yellow linen number.
I pulled a brush through my hair, had a go at a bit of eye make-up, moisturised my legs and was out the door. I sashayed down Stennack to catch the coach with my friend Liz. We had pre-coach cocktails at The Alba (v posh. Grey walls), and then travelled to Perranporth on the party bus. We bagged the back seats, but didn't moon or flick the bird to passing motorists through the back window, because we are now middle aged. Did you ever do that when you were at school? I was reminded of this sketch by French and Saunders:
Anyway as you can imagine, there was lots of love and laughter. Shrewing aplenty (I'm sorry, but there was a lot of shrew material wandering around Perranporth beach) and Emma had thoughtfully sat me next to the pic n mix station. I think it was for the children, but a few stern stares and they left the white chocolate jazzies well alone ;)) No photos unfortunately, they are all on my camera phone. There are a few floating around Facebook. They aren't too terrible.
In other news, we were visited by a rather gorgeous dragonfly this weekend. He buzzed and hung around for hours. I trooped each of the boys out in turn to look at him. They all thought he was rather fab. And because he stayed for so long, I did indulge in some photography. He was very generous, and let me get very close indeed. In fact he seemed to like the attention. I even felt the need to touch him ever so slightly.
I have a huge glut of tomatoes, and am unsure what to do with them. I'd quite like to roast of bake them somehow; do you have any suggestions, or lovely recipies that I could try? Either that or I may make some chutney, and start stockpiling for my annual Christmas hamper presents.
I have started to learn to crochet. After the initial fingers and thumbs disaster and lots and lots of under-breath swearing, I have got the hang of the initial process. My neighbour is coming over this evening to assist me in the next step; single crochet. I am pleased at my perseverance, because usually if I don't 'get it' straight away, I just discard whatever it is that I am learning. A teacher once referred to it on a school report by writing:
"Leanne finds it nigh on impossible to grapple with this subject. Her understanding of Mathematics could be greatly improved if she applied the same tenacity that she does at swinging on her chair."
Thank goodness that Sam does not show my lack of courage when it comes to grappling. He has secured his place at Liverpool University to study History and Politics. I am overwhelmingly proud of him. His A Level results were amazing. It also means that he is definitely leaving home in September. Many of you may be in the position that I am now. Or you have been through it all. I have cried a lot this week. I am happy and sad and bereft and excited and scared all at once. Sam is very cool about it all. He is glad to be going, and I think big city living will suit him very much indeed. He has never seemed entirely at home in St Ives, and I think that he will like the anonymity that a city can offer.
Here's hoping that Monday is as bright and sunny where you are as it is here. Olly and I are off to the beach in about five minutes. I just need to top and tail the kitchen and plump up the cushions.
Have a lovely day, friends.