We’ve just had a visit from old friends J and G and their great kids J and E. We hadn’t seen them for ages and they popped over for a few days with us before having a few days in Venice. Continue reading
C’s over in the UK spending a few days with E and the boys before heading home on the same flight as our next house guests, our old friends the Worthies. I’ve been busy getting the pool de-algified, the garden strimmed and getting on with my unromantic anniversary gift to C, re-decorating the lounge whilst she’s away. It’s not quite as bad as buying a set of pans but it’s hardly a love token. I’m a crap husband.
Believe it or not today is our 35th wedding anniversary. And I only went and failed to get C a present or a card. I am not the most romantic of guys, as I’ve admitted previously, but this was pretty dismal. C got me a card of course ( a charming one) but to make matters worse our daughter R took the trouble to make us a card using a photo of herself toasting our achievement with a glass of wine. Plus, she’d written the whole card for us in Italian which she’d translated herself and it was just lovely (in case you hadn’t picked it up from previous postings R has Down’s Syndrome). I felt shamed. What’s more I can’t even take C out for lunch or dinner today as she’s spending a few days with daughter E and S and our grandsons and we were heading out to the airport by mid-morning. I’d better find/do something in the next couple of days to make up for it. And I was talking about Nick Faldo’s self-centredness…
I’m not sure Faldo’s going to come through as a successful European team captain as we look forward to the final day of the Ryder Cup. He’s been an odd choice to me and he’s done very little so far during the event that’s impressive or inspirational.
Well it’s been one of those weeks. I was only writing a few days ago about how pleased we were with the extensive repairs to the extension and how good the house was now looking. Then earlier this week I noticed that a crack, albeit slight, had reappeared on both sides of the extension. Groan. It may be just settlement but we’ll see. Knowing our luck we’ll wake up one morning with the dining room in the pool. Continue reading
When I was 16 a friend of mine had been on a visit to Carnaby St (and bear in mind this was the swinging 60’s) and had come back with a very cool pair of flared hipsters with big leather belt. Sounds unlikely, and very Austin Powers, but these were the thing for blokes to wear. And I really wanted a pair. So off I toddled to Blackpool’s equivalent of trendy boutique street (one shop) and blew all my savings on a pair of flared hipsters made from bold orange corduroy.