Now that all electrical appliances have to be sold complete with fitted plugs, I’ve rather left the knack of doing it myself behind me. However, I stumbled over the lead of my hair drier and trod on the plug and broke it. So I went to the drawer and fished out a plug – oh yes I did, I knew exactly where to find it and I’m sure you’re mightily impressed, or you would be if you’ve ever looked in my drawers. I also got out a screwdriver and some wire cutters, right there in the same drawer.
Do you remember, how bemusingly infuriating it was to buy an appliance, be it ever so expensive, and have to buy a plug in addition and fit the damn thing? I don’t suppose young people even know how to. I cut off the old plug, stripped the wires, took out the fuse, opened up the new plug, put in the fuse, intoned “George Brown is a live wire (another indication of my great age) and … well, that was the easy bit.
It’s not that it’s hard, fitting a plug, but it’s quite fiddly, isn’t it? I kept dropping the screws. And once I’d tightened them, there were little plastic gizmos to keep the lead secure inside the plug. Well, it took me a good five minutes to work that out. Each could go in either way up or facing either way, and it turned out that they didn’t go in straight at that but had to be angled to hold the wires in place. Finally, I put the top back on, took it off again to fit the wires a bit snugger and finally put in the screw to fix it together.
“Well done,” said Russell mildly and amicably, but I have to give the man credit for not coming and trying to help. It wasn’t that I didn’t know what to do, but it wasn’t one of my defter ten minutes. I’m not sure that I could have resisted, in his place.
Hair dried, I put on my face. I’ve been wearing minimal make-up of late, really almost nothing, but I don’t quite have the effrontery to go bare-faced. I was a bit startled when I looked in the mirror though, and discovered that I was sporting a mighty trout pout.
I’ve no idea what has happened, but I realised two or three days ago that I seemed to have burnt my mouth and couldn’t remember how. The tip of my tongue was sore and so were my lips. It’s got worse and eating Twiglets yesterday was quite painful, not that it stopped me. But my lips hadn’t been swollen before. I suppose it’s an allergic reaction, but I can’t think to what. Lipstick seems obvious but, though I did wear the same lipstick a couple of times this week, I have used it before frequently with no ill effect. I can’t think of anything unusual I’ve eaten and I don’t usually react to anything adversely.
I stared at myself, at my mighty pouting mouth, deciding that I had no option but to rock the Diana Dors look. So I slapped on an extra layer of eyeshadow and out I went.