List Ticking, part 2
The mistake was mentioning mowing the grass. Ever since I said that, the rain has been coming down in all the various ways rain can descend. Non-Brits wonder why British people are pre-occupied by the weather - I think it's because we can never be sure what it will do to us. Last week I was wandering round in T shirts, thinking about getting my shorts out. Today, I drove home with the headlights on at 2:30 pm because it was so rainy and misty. It can be cracking the flags outside, but a Derbyshire girl will always go out with a jumper to hand, just in case. It must be nice to live in a climate where you can say without fear "let's have a barbecue a week on Saturday". Here, we'd be daring to say "let's have a barbecue tomorrow."
Enough about the weather. Everything has been ticked off the original list, apart from mowing the grass. Oh, and apart from packing. But my train doesn't go til 11:39 tomorrow, why would I have packed already? In fact, I pretty much know what I'm going to pack. And the ironing is nearly done. If it wasn't for the fact that while checking my emails and watching a DVD, my landline rang, and shortly after that so did my mobile (don't you just love modern technology?), I might've got round to turning the iron on again.
One hazard of rain (see, I told you Brits were preoccupied by weather) is that it means water gets on your skin. And if you've had a fake tan at lunchtime, the last thing you want is rivulets down your arms during the afternoon, or splooshes up your trouser leg as you step on a wonky paving stone. Being gently sanded while wearing the paper version of gym knickers is a curious experience, but getting a tan without the risk of turning red and blotchy first is well worth it.
OK, so I have the tan (thanks Timar), the eyebrows (thanks Katie) and the haircut (thanks Jo), all I need to make these posh dresses look OK is the underwear. And believe me, underwear is way more complex than you could imagine. I am now the proud owner of what appears to be a combination of scaffolding and Medieval torture instrument, which, thanks to the ministrations of an enthusiastic Spanish bra fitting lady, is the best fitting underwear I ever had. Talk about lifting them up and holding them in place! OK, this is probably more information than some people might want to know, but if you were thinking about wearing the dresses I'm thinking about wearing, then the question of how to deal with one's boobage would be uppermost in your mind.
And on that note, I think I should either finish the ironing or go to bed.
Oh, before I forget - check out my bro-in law Duncan's ace blog: http://djhiggins.blogspot.com/
Enough about the weather. Everything has been ticked off the original list, apart from mowing the grass. Oh, and apart from packing. But my train doesn't go til 11:39 tomorrow, why would I have packed already? In fact, I pretty much know what I'm going to pack. And the ironing is nearly done. If it wasn't for the fact that while checking my emails and watching a DVD, my landline rang, and shortly after that so did my mobile (don't you just love modern technology?), I might've got round to turning the iron on again.
One hazard of rain (see, I told you Brits were preoccupied by weather) is that it means water gets on your skin. And if you've had a fake tan at lunchtime, the last thing you want is rivulets down your arms during the afternoon, or splooshes up your trouser leg as you step on a wonky paving stone. Being gently sanded while wearing the paper version of gym knickers is a curious experience, but getting a tan without the risk of turning red and blotchy first is well worth it.
OK, so I have the tan (thanks Timar), the eyebrows (thanks Katie) and the haircut (thanks Jo), all I need to make these posh dresses look OK is the underwear. And believe me, underwear is way more complex than you could imagine. I am now the proud owner of what appears to be a combination of scaffolding and Medieval torture instrument, which, thanks to the ministrations of an enthusiastic Spanish bra fitting lady, is the best fitting underwear I ever had. Talk about lifting them up and holding them in place! OK, this is probably more information than some people might want to know, but if you were thinking about wearing the dresses I'm thinking about wearing, then the question of how to deal with one's boobage would be uppermost in your mind.
And on that note, I think I should either finish the ironing or go to bed.
Oh, before I forget - check out my bro-in law Duncan's ace blog: http://djhiggins.blogspot.com/
posted by Sal at
9:02 pm
3 Comments:
Bon soir ma cherie!
I hope you have arrived safely. I was thinking about you.
Now...tell me...Have you UNPACKED yet?? *Runs and hides*
We had quite a dry day down here in the wilds of Shropshire today UNTIL 5.00pm at which points the heavens opened and spilled their guts everywhere. And then it had stopped by 7pm (to precise about two seconds after I got in through the door feeling decidedly soggy)/ Now it's actually quite a pretty evening - the sky is blue, but I am cross because of course it's far too wet for me to do anything, and you know how I'm dying to crack on in my backgarden. It's very frustrating. (And very like April!)
Okay. I'll shut up now.
A bientot!
I hope the packing went well, and that you are safely arrived.
Our rain FINALLY went away today. I am happy, as it was getting rather soggy here.
Eagerly awaiting your first post from Cannes...
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