Pulling techniques reconsidered...

As a ps to my previous post, one incident I forgot to report was that a very good-looking young man tried to chat up Nicola F-B on Saturday night, but alas to no avail. The conversation went something like this:

Him: So, what do you do?

Her: We're murderers, all of us.

Then I appear from nowhere and tell him "We're all on a LOT of anti-psychotic drugs".

Him: Are you married?

Her: No, we all used to be but we all murdered our husbands

Then I appear again, and kindly inform Nicola she has to smell one of my armpits and she gets to choose which one.

At this point, the goodlooking young man decides to leave.

Hen Weekend

Well, it's Wednesday already and I'm rather late blogging the events of the hen weekend in Brighton. I think I gave myself jet-lag by staying up until 4 am, and having pitta bread filled with chips at 3.30 am on the Saturday night/Sunday morning - I have spent the past few days trying to get my body clock back to normal (whatever normal is for this body of mine).

Anyhoo, had a lovely few days in Brighton with Nic F-B and went out with Nicki, Louise and friends on the Saturday night for Nicki's hen night. We showed Nicola F-B a part of the Brighton nightlife she had so far managed to avoid! We went to the pubs and a club on the beach front, most of which were full of hen and stag parties - lots of miserable looking grooms dressed up as vicars or tarts, mainly! We were rescued from predatory males by a group on a stag weekend (who were staying at the same hotel as Nic and Lou), most of whom were married or had girlfriends and were not interested in going out on the pull. So we had a great laugh with them and ended up dancing to an eclectic mix of 80s hits until the wee hours. Then we all came out of the club one by one, whinging about how pain we felt in our feet - oh, how the mighty have fallen! That's age, that is!

Other things I managed to achieve this weekend:

- my first swim in the sea this year
- a doze on the beach in the sunshine
- fish and chips from a highly recommended fish and chip shop in Hove
- early Saturday morning shopping (to beat the crowds) in my favourite new shop, Primark (it's cheap as chips, it is!).

Now I'm back at college, amongst lots of twitchy people trying to finish their PhDs. This week I will mainly be reading Chaucer's Greatest Hits and going to the gym to combat the effects of the aforementioned fish and chips.

A dog-dangling sweaty day

So hot. Soooo very, very hot. And I've been working -why me? At this time of year, I should be up to my neck in the glacial meltwaters of the River Aare in Berne. My skin tingles just thinking about it. It is one of the best ways on earth to cool down in weather like this. I don't miss Switzerland often, but right now, the Aare is particularly inviting.

I'm off to Brighton for the weekend for Nicki's hen celebrations. I think clouds have been forecast - typical! But I'm going for a swim in the sea regardless, as it will be my first trip to the seaside this year. I want an ice-cream (with a flake in it), fish and chips on the beach and I want to lose a small fortune (in 2p pieces) at the pier arcade. I know my rights!

James is busy writing up. He has even been to the library - imagine - shocking! It's all very serious and grown up. I keep wanting to prod him with a stick, just to get his attention. It's probably for the best that I'm going away for a couple of days. He'll get more work done. And hopefully he'll have more time to come and play in August and September. Have I mentioned that he's perfectly dreamy?

Oh, and apparently I escaped from home just in time, as the blackcurrents have now started to ripen and are being harvested by the bucket-load. Blackcurrents are the new gooseberries, apparently. I have all this (and, no doubt, myriad other fruit ready to ripen) to look forward to when I go home again next week. Ah! But next week, I am looking after CHILDREN. I shall turn the picking of fruit into a new and exciting game, called "Oi! Pick that fruit or Auntie Becky will chop your heads off and fry them in garlic": sounds great, doesn't it?

PS. I think this is the first time I've used "myriad" in this blog (and about time too!)
PPS. Hugs to Heather!

Update

I've a whole load of unanswered e-mails in my in-box. Thank you to everyone who has e-mailed to check how dad is doing. I would have answered but my parents' dial-up connection is a great force to be reckoned with and I just didn't have the willpower needed to both read and respond to e-mails!

Dad should be out of hospital some time today. He has been making a steady recovery, has been a terrible patient by trying to rush things and insisting that he's fine ("there's nothing wrong with me!") and is now going to have to get used to the idea of resting for a few weeks. Mum has been worried sick, not helped by the fact that the day after Dad went into hospital, a recently-bereaved friend of theirs in the village tried to commit suicide.

But, despite all the worry and bad things happening, there have been many rays of sunshine. My parents' village has magic fairies. As soon as Dad went into hospital, word spread and various chores just magically got done -the garden was watered, the chickens were fed, Dad's allotment was harvested and even Nan's grave was tended and remains in full bloom. And watering the garden is no small task - the garden is huuuuge, and parched and the watering cans have to be filled from the water pump: it's a major work-out just filling and carrying the cans. Sophie, James and I spent quite a lot of time picking fruit at Dad's allotment, where everything decided to ripen just as he was taken ill. I have never seen (nor do I hope to see) so many redcurrents in my life - we tried giving them away to neighbours who make wine or jam, we tried cooking them in puddings and eating them ourselves, we gave them away free to the village shop to sell, but by the time I left people were running indoors when they saw me because they were scared I was going to give them more redcurrents! Now the gooseberries are the new redcurrents but these bastards are evil: they have huge thorns all over them, particularly concentrated near the actual fruit. We all bear the scars. And who would want to eat them anyway? I picked a whole carrier bag yesterday but I bet people were only taking them off of me out of pity. Anyway, the upshot of all this is that I've realised just how much dad does on a day-to-day basis, and all with a smile on his face. I think it may be time to employ a gardener!

While still on the subject of gardens, the other ray of sunshine was that on Sunday afternoon, in my parents' back garden, James got down on one knee, presented me with a beautiful diamond ring and asked me to marry him. So that's what I'm going to do! Afterall, we need more men in our family for all the gardening, harvesting of various berries and heavy lifting - it's just a huge bonus that he also happens to be perfectly dreamy and the love of my life!

My Daddy

Well, my Dad has given us all a huge scare. He went into a small private hospital yesterday for a routine op on his legs. All went well until he got ready to leave and had, as my Mum described it, a 'funny turn'. There was one doctor between 50 patients at this place, and it took an hour for the doc to see him. Then it happened again, this time worse - he wasn't responding, had complained of chest pains etc. So he was taken by ambulance to a 'proper' hospital, where they told him he had either had a heart attack or a blood clot on his lungs. He had the scan this morning - blood clots on both lungs. And he passed out again, when they stupidly allowed him to walk to the bathroom. We've all had a big scare but hopefully now they know what they are dealing with, they can get on with his treatment and make sure he stays in bed.

In the meantime, there was one glimmer of humour in all this: the menu at the hospital (£1.29 for staff, £2.89 for visitors) was... wait for it... roast beef and horseradish risotto. Now, what could ANYONE have done to deserve THAT??

Hello Will!!!

According to my trusty site meter, I had my first ever reader from Nova Scotia today, which I presume means that Will is now back in Canada. Glad to see you didn't get sent to a detention centre for illegal immigrants, Will! May the next year fly by and may you be back in Heather's arms before you both know it!

So very quiet!

Our college has slowly been abandoned by most of it inmates and everything is eerily quiet. All the undergrads have departed, others who should be here are on holiday, rAndy is in Switzerland with the mother and father of complex wavelets and even Glen has taken the Hobo Express back to Oxford. This leaves Jamie with practically no alternative but to work on his PhD - things are getting desperate!

I feel a little lost. I know I should be studying ready for October but can't quite get into the swing of things. I've had the worst hayfever I've ever had for the past couple of days and it has been exhausting. Yesterday I resorted to Gravol (antihistamine from Canada) which knocked me out for about 15 hours - I was completely stoned but at least it gave me a break from all the sneezing, wheeeezing, coughing and being unable to breath. Fuck knows what I'm allergic to, but it had better go away soon or I shall have no option but to become a full-time Gravol addict!

So, today is Monday and a new regime begins. I'm going to the library this afternoon to start the reading for my dissertation. Then I'm going for a run. Really, I am! Honest! Either that, or I'll take another Gravol and be a space cadet for the rest of the day. Hmmm...

Racing: for Life!

On one of the hottest days of the year, three generations of Williams women did the Race 4 Life on Jesus Green on Sunday. I ran with Claire, Megan ran and walked, and Sophie and Mum walked the whole thing together. We arrived to be greeted with the sight of hundreds and hundreds of lycra-clad women doing aerobics in the blazing sunshine. A large percentage of them had clearly done no form of exercise in quite some time (oh, the cellulite!) and seemed not to realise that preceding their first ever race by jumping around in the heat was not the best idea.

Miraculously, none of us passed out from heat exhaustion (needless to say, we skipped the aerobics), but it was a close thing and only the presence of an ice-cream van at the finish line saved us. And running in that kind of heat was probably good practice for my gorilla run, which I am starting to get a little worried about.

All is now quiet in college. The undergraduates have departed and July is Jamie's month for locking himself away and writing up his PhD. Procrastination has now reached the stage where he is even considering writing his book to get out of finishing his PhD. Really quite desperate!