My college pal Fern and I walked into town today and whilst standing on a street corner, were accosted by a guy who asked if we wanted to make £10. I wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or grateful. It turned out he was drumming up custom for volunteers to complete a questionnaire about VAX’s new product packaging.
Of course Fern had to go one better like she always does, (she gets distinctions in absolutely everything on the Access course) and because they liked her answers so much, they videoed her for some up and coming staff training session. To add insult to injury, they only asked her if I was her mum. Now where have I heard that before, it’s becoming a bit of a habit! But Fern couldn’t understand why I made a fuss; she said she would be proud to have me as her mum.
I am frantically trying to find something a bit posh to wear to her wedding, just as long as I don’t get mistaken for the mother of the bride I should be OK! I bought a white bolero from our local charity shop, but made the mistake of trying it on over my jumper (duh) whereupon I became completely trapped in the thing to the point where I had to pull back the curtain, come out of the changing-room in full view of the shop and ask a complete stranger to help me get undressed! I was mortified.
I was walking along the High Street recently when I suddenly realised that my mother was no longer with me. I don’t mean she died; just that she was somewhere other than by my side. I retraced my steps only to find her in confrontational pose with some youth who had thrown the packaging from his Big Mac meal into the street. I was quietly trying to drag her away as she was telling him to pick it up and put it in the bin. His mates were looking on in mild amusement, offering words of colourful encouragement which I just hoped my mum didn’t understand, when to my utter amazement, he did! We still beat a hasty retreat into the nearest shop much to her irritation, as she wanted to carry on her lecture, but I thought it best to quit whilst ahead.
I have been lurking around in the late evening hoping for a glimpse of my neighbour’s car. He had the misfortune to reverse into me as I was pulling out of our close. It was very amicable and neighbourly; no details were exchanged at the time as it was all very low key and lovely. But since then I have had no end of trouble with my car (including breaking down and waiting in the pouring rain for the AA), so have reported it on the quiet to my insurers. Being a professional coward with no confrontational skills, I waited till cover of darkness to get his registration details. Skulking in the bushes was largely a waste of effort since he’s going to find out from his insurers eventually. As soon as I got within a gnats whisker of the car, the house security light came on and I was silhouetted, frozen in the driveway like a Vesuvius volcano victim; turned to stone under the spotlight. I couldn’t have looked more conspicuous, and perhaps I suspect, a tad suspicious, if I tried!
You may have noticed I can be a bit cruel to my mother in law, but I just can’t help myself! She has some bizarre opinions on the most inoffensive of things which are impossible to keep quiet about. (Crocuses are too yellow, or was it daffodils? – possibly both, friends are a waste of time etc). The latest thing to offend her senses is that her new neighbours leave their pegs on the line!
I am however not completely without compassion and really did feel for her recently. She has had a leak in her central heating system which finally manifested itself as an indoor water feature in the hall, which she said was the result of a constant slow drip. I imagine she was referring to the plumber. He went up into the loft to take a look at the damage, and put his foot through the ceiling! Imagine! I thought that only happened in cartoons, but no, there it was, a size 11 boot protruding from the plaster overhead in Full Technicolor 3D Caterpillar Glory. I will leave you to imagine the commentary.
She came home with me the following day whilst the ceiling was repaired and left to dry, but not before I was treated to her latest acquisition. A clock that, on each and every hour, makes the call of a different bird. Midnight heralds the cheery chirruping chaffinch, 2 a.m., the lonely lamenting lark. I asked if it sounded the death throes of the Dodo at any particular hour, which made me chuckle no end. There are two of the damn things, so they can be heard in slightly out of sync stereo, due to the time lapse betwixt hall and kitchen, with the result that you only get 57 minutes in every hour free of interference. Perhaps if I lived alone I might warm to them, but I do hope not!
I have now received a written offer from Warwick University. It’s conditional upon me getting distinctions in all my Sociology assignments and at least merits in everything else, plus GCSE Maths. My tutor thinks it’s tough but doable; I do already have distinctions in all sociology assignments so far, including I am pleased to say, the handwritten exam we recently sat. I also got a distinction in the English exam and a merit in the History exam, so if I stick at it I will be well on course. Who’d have thought it! My neighbour is a little less inclined with his glib throw away comments now he realises I am actually clever.
Mother’s Day was fun, both my boys were here for the weekend and we spent time together, just the four of us which we haven’t done in, well, years really. For some crazy reason I decided it would be a great idea to get on our bikes and cycle to the pub. My bike doesn’t, or didn’t, even have the front wheel attached, so long ago was it since I rode the thing. It has lived in the rafters of the garage gathering dust and providing a home for the mice, so whatever possessed me to come up with such an idea I can’t imagine. Anyway we arrived in mini convoy with me bringing up the rear, (only three of my gears were working or I would have been in the lead obviously) and had to sit outside because no one had thought to bring any locking mechanism. The fact that the leg of my jeans was stuffed into my socks, which is not a great look to be fair, may also have influenced our choice of seating arrangements. That said; first son Chris was wearing a cap which I thought was from his local gay cycle club as it sported a large rainbow feature. Apparently it’s the England team colours and he is very lucky to have one. Shows how much I know about cycling then!
Our lunch was doing its thing in my slow cooker but I had underestimated the cooking time and so when we got back, instead of sitting down to a casserole, we were forced to sit in the garden around the chiminea drinking more wine and having fun until it was ready. After which I was made to play a dance game on the Wii. I bowed out gracefully at a suitable break in proceedings and headed for the hills whilst still in possession of my faculties. There is apparently video evidence to suggest my faculties had in fact, unbeknown to me, long since left me by that point. Oh well…
Things are hotting up on the course now, in fact in three months, it will all be over. Student Finances have contacted me now that I have accepted Warwick’s offer. There’s a lot of form filling to do and information to supply which never quite gets the result you hope. There is always a red asterisk flashing at you telling you there’s something else you haven’t done. I need a degree just to fill the bloody thing in. Anyway it’s end of term now, which means a two week break (and three assignments to prepare for) before going back. The lovely weather we have been experiencing is due to come to a grinding halt; snow is forecast by Wednesday. Which will be great.