I worked assiduously this morning. Not on what I'd intended to, as the Sage plonked a valuation on my desk to type up, but anytime I do work as soon as it is given to me feels like great efficiency.
I am chilly. The room is next to the Aga-warmed kitchen but it is, at present, unheated. Having become chillier during the morning, I have just lit two candles and fetched a blanket to go over my knees. It is not that cold really, it is just me.
I have realised that tomorrow I am going to spend the day in Norwich, until 4, and then have to be back there by 6.30. Norwich is half an hour's drive away. I wonder if it is worth coming home. Probably not and I might as well go to a café for a couple of hours. Or shop. I only really care to start Christmas shopping in December, but it is a busy month. I also have a not-shopping-in-Norwich-in-December policy, which I instituted some years ago when parking and, indeed, moving, became impossible. I tried parking and riding, which is fine if you are after a jolly or business, but is hopeless for real shopping as you need to decant parcels every so often. Shopping is not done in half measures.
I wonder if the second lunchtime glass of wine was not a good idea. It cheered me for a while, but now I'm gloomy again. Chocolate hasn't helped. Nor has music. Damn.
The Archers has just started. Wisely, I listened to it online last night as high drama was promised - the night when daggy Ruth was to embark on her dirty midweek with her cowman. Wise, as there was a fully descriptive review in the paper this morning. Why is Ruth such a deeply unappealing character? David is rather too perfect, albeit a tad dull, and her voice is truly dreadful - and don't tell me that, after nearly 20 years away from the North East, her accent would not have softened to some small degree - but surely that's not enough?
I'm not depressed. Just pissed off. Damn. If I'm not over it by tonight, champagne will be needed.
The good news is that I got a bank statement and I have whole lots more money than I thought, I don't know why.
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Delightful people with a little too much time on their hands
Copyright
Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.
Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?
14 comments:
25 years in the North-East have not affected my Hampshire accent at all, as I discovered on a holiday in the New Forest, when I kept giggling because everybody else sounded like me!
Oh, how entertaining. I'd love that, but I don't know where I'd have to go to find people who sound like me.
It is sad that no one likes Ruth. When she had cancer, loyal listeners perked up no end.
I cannot comment on The Archers..is it a TV or Radio thingy?
But oh oh oh - christmas shopping...poor you - you have such a large family...which is nice of course but not regarding shopping for presents
I have only 3 people to buy pressies for...Mum, Nathan and Fabien. So that should get done in 15 minutes.
Isn't that a little sad, though?
I refuse to look at my bank statement - it arrived today and is lying on the kitchen table. Perhaps later after a glass or two of wine.
The Archers has been going on BBC Radio for decades. It is a soap opera that was originally meant to give people facts about the everyday life of farmers. They wanted a sensational story to mark the 15,000th episode. I'm afraid I have been listening to it since 1974.
Mind you, the night that Independent Television started, back in the mid 50s, they killed off one of the main characters, so I suppose Ruth was lucky.
After my father died in 1970, my mother, sister and I had no one else, I know what you mean. xx
I haven't done any shopping for ages, so the cash has built up, but it'll all go in the next couple of months.
Do you know what my Mum is bringing me? No of course you can't..doh!
She's making me her special brandy drenched christmas fruitcake and lugging it all the way across Africa to me. Now THAT deserves a good pressie I think. The French only eat naff buches de noel or something at christmas time. All butter cream and dried out sponge cake...horrid stuff.
When my daughter worked in Belgium, they were astonished to hear that I made Christmas puddings every three years - we ate one fresh, one the next year and one the year after. Plenty of brandy, they kept beautifully.
Have to admit, I don't bother now.
I missed the archers last night, now its ruined, ruined!
Mind you, wouldn't have minded much if Ruth ran off with Sam and neither of them were ever heard from again...
A Canadian expat listener? You are indeed an honorary Brit.
I carefully didn't say what happened, Boy, just in case anyone had missed the headlines. Sam is so dull and humourless, he really suits "ooooh, noooo" Ruth, but the 'love' scenes were squirmingly unrealistic.
Why is Ruth such a deeply unappealing character? haha well that made me laugh anyway. I have no idea who Ruth and Sam are but since I had just spent the best part of half an hour arguing with my own Ruth and thinking she was very annoying, it amused me.
Anyway I see Champagne is on for this evening so i'm sure you will a good one.
Have fun in our Fine City tomorrow. I will look out for you. Wonder if I will recognise you from your profile photo????
"Daggy Ruth"?? "deeply unappealing"?? How can you say that about her? I love Ruth, esp. her incongruous accent. She's a good egg, our Ruth. Not like Brian Archer. Or Ed (or was it Tom?)
On a related note, I don't suppose you ever listened to Westway, the World Service Soap?
You've been listening to the Archers since 1974? In that case, I don't suppose you remember the time the Post Office was held up and robbed? I do. It traumatised me for a whole afternoon. Dreadful business. Is Jack Woolly still in it these days? Happy memories....thank you z
Brian isn't an Archer is he? Aldridge. Almost the same. He used to be fine, until about fifteen years ago, when they suddenly decided to turn him into an awful roué and have him chase Betty (who was then working as his & Jenny's cleaner) all over the landing. And Caroline Bone suddenly announced that she had had an affair with him but it was all over. That was, of course, before he got kicked in the head by a mad cow.
But Ruth never has fun. I don't think she knows how. Maybe, having demonstrated her more vulnerable side, I will learn to love her. I think I could appreciate the accent, it's the voice that grates.
By the way, Neil lives in the next village, about three miles from here.
No, I never listened to Westway. I used to listen to the World Service often, when I listened to the radio a lot, but that was when I was mostly alone during the day, which I haven't been for the last 20 years as that was when we decided to go for Quality of Life and Togetherness rather than Earning Lots of Money.
Oh yes, I'd forgotten about the Post Office. Was that Clive Horrobin? Most unpleasant.
Jack Woolley is still in it, but he has Alzheimers. Peggy refused to believe it until the doctor asked him to draw a clock face and he didn't know how.
I don't really have quite enough to think about in real life. I'm feeling a bit abashed. But I did say the other day that I remember things about people.....
By the way, Tess, there's a photo somewhere of the back of my head. When I was in Venice, it'll be early April. Wave if you see me.
Oh, no, you'll have to call - I'll have my back to you....
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