Z’s rag vanished

Nothing happened yesterday.  That is, nothing to write about.  Time was when I’d have manufactured a post out of it anyway, and I still might on occasion, but I only do that if the Muse (the one that inspired Rampling Sid Rumpo, I suspect) strikes, nowadays.

Today was more eventful and, I’m pleased to say, was punctuated by my thoroughly losing my temper.  This was deserved by the object and considerably overdue.  Being totes adorbs and all that, it happens rarely and is usually swallowed in the interest of politeness and good relationships, even with idiots.

I had a haircut this morning, which is always a pleasure and means that I have hair that doesn’t even need to be brushed, if I don’t get round to it.  Apart from slathering on moisturiser and, usually, eyebrows (fair eyebrows don’t show), my beauty, hem hem, regime has considerably slipped this summer and I rarely have bothered with makeup.  I reckon I’ve reached the age when no one is looking at me, and that’s fine.  After that, I bought more chick and cat food and came home.

Al was coming over to fetch Ro’s Mini to take it for sale or auction, I’m not sure which, and I found up the keys and the log book etc, and lovely Jamie helped me push it out of the garage, so that I could put a bit more air in the tyres, and get it in striking distance to be loaded on a trailer.  Then we pushed out Al’s Morris Minor – and I couldn’t find the key.

I’d searched the one place I’d have put it and quite a number of other places besides, when Jeff drove up.  He, it turned out, had placed it randomly on a table without telling me, and wonders why I didn’t find it.  About two months ago, so the chances of tracking it down are remote.  And he blamed me.  Then, he assured me he’s only tried to help and he’s a skilled carpenter, so I reminded him that he couldn’t even measure a pair of garage doors within 20mm and gave the wrong measurements to the company making replacement doors.  So he told me that he’d only given me a rough idea and it was my fault for ordering them when I knew that.  I reminded him of the whole conversation, when he gave me the quote from the company, wanted me to order them, I went in and rang them and went out and told him so.  He disagreed and said that nothing was his fault and swore quite a bit, not at me but really rather offensively

At this point, I called him a liar and told him to get off my land.  I don’t do this normally, loves, diplomacy is my strong suit.  But Charlotte was here and she was shocked that he was so rude and impertinent- not a word I use lightly as it sounds quite pompous, but truly, darlings, he’s been thoroughly infuriating me for weeks and I’ve been making allowances and biting my tongue.  But he’s appalling, and I never want to see him again.  He’s caused me nothing but trouble and I have had enough.

Anyway, after that, Charlotte and I took Ben for a walk and he had great fun.  Two women were throwing balls and frisbees for their five dogs in the river and he joined in and found that swimming is great – he’s never cared to go out of his depth before.  Thanks to Charlotte’s bag of cheese, he was obedient and came back as soon as he was called, every time.

Al and Dilly came and, with great difficulty, we managed to push the (flat batteried) Mini on the trailer, which Alex manoeuvres with impressive skill and aplomb – I’ve learned a lot from watching him, but I’m a girly, frankly, when it comes to reversing with a trailer and they went off to deliver it, leaving me with the children.  They returned an hour and a half later with armfuls of Ronald McDo’s goodies, which were most welcome.  It’s rarely my choice of meal, but it beat the salmon I had in the fridge today.  I had a box of mini Magnums that went down well afterwards, with the children and me.

I’ve mentioned to Pugsley that, for Squiffany’s ninth birthday, I bought her an expensive iPod Touch.  So it’s fair enough for him to consider something he’d really like, even if it’s a bit ambitious.  He’s going to think about it.  He looked pleased.

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