...has it's own charm. I had hoped for a sunny day, but the rain and the trees, and the lushness, and the lights reflecting on the roads...it's nice.
So. Nothing quite like a country drive through avenues and tunnels of lush summer trees.
Then, I begin to fee as if it is my lucky day. Friday's are always good to me...usually cos it's my 'slow' day and the weekend...I believe that Fridays should be half-days or holidays.
We could all work TF smarter, more efficiently on Mon-Thurs and then take Friday off...but, we are a stupid-ass nation sometimes. The French, they ease it down on a Friday and some companies do not do Friday. The know how to live. I will always big-up the French. They are the unique nation, within Europe, who can be 100% agriculturally self-sufficient. Who wouldn't admire a nation such as this one?
Tomorrow is never promised. Nothing is ever promised...so live it well.
Digression. My lucky day. A bit of a peruse round TW, looking in a few gallery windows and the overpriced boutiques...seeing a Broderie Anglais dress...that was white and not off-white/cream (so it was disappointing) cos cream works for me better, being gingery and hazel-eyed..just does. What about the gingers? We (gingery mingers) like cream, not so much white..too stark for our complexion.
Then I collected a super-lovely cheque, that is always thrilling because: I make work, get it properly presented, photographed, wrapped, invoiced, delivered to the deadline, put out there and then hope for the best. I do it, myself, I kick my own ass. Selling is never promised. It's out of my control, completely.
Had a bit of a chat, had a rummage in gallery storage, to find one unsold..decided to leave the rest until next week. Giving one more week of opportunity.
Punch the air, high five, twerk, shout Yay...jump back in the chevvy, like Daisy Duke etc
My Pa wasn't in. He's notoriously late for appointments : )
I drove off to town to shop and take a cafe moment. Got checked out, a few times and then, like, over-checked out. That type of checked out, when it would almost be appropriate to go up to them and bend over so that they can get a close up of your smooth decolletage and the shape of your breasts...and say something like, "Do you like cream.............with your coffee or...?"(in Eartha Kit or Marilyn voice and Bette Davis eyes : )
I didn't, but I thought about it....and laughed to myself.
I bought a pot of parsley and a pot of mint, to add to my herb garden....using my John Lewis voucher from Christmas. I went to the bank. I bought some foam board, then accidentally made new 'friends' in WHS. They advised me to shop there again...for my well-priced A1 foam board. Must have liked me. I liked them.
Rain, again, after sunny spell...not the best weather for putting air in tyres. Did not matter, it was a very necessary chore.
Arrived at Pa's with a wet back.
Sad news. Oscar, the kitty had died. Cancer of the throat. My brother had him put down....the veterinary had come to the house to euthanise last week, poor kitty. He was cremated.
I was given a bag full of kitty meals and treats...I also took Oscar's old kitty bowl. Poor kitty, poor thing. He was only 8 years-old. I felt very grateful that my kitty is still going at 16 years-old. She was very grateful for the yummies. I gave her two dinners : )
I had stayed about an hour, and I felt like Pa did not want me to go....I have my critters to think of, and it had been a long enough day. I'll see him next week for a forest dog walk and a beer, spot of lunch in the forest pub. It will be nice.
I always feel relieved to get home. Shut the door, feed the critters, drink tea and unpack knowing that I have survived another day and got home safely and soundly...then a few gratitude moments...thanking G-d for being safe and home and dry and all of the day's blessings.
I was obliged to watch the world soap opera of 'The (bad) News', as Pa puts it on when he eats, at about 6:30pm
It's such a soap opera, especially when you've not seen it for a while. It is, now, 'Spitting Image'.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Doi1U7I1CyU
I heard the radio new as well and listened to some whiney middle class bitches complaining about Theresa May...blah, blah, blah...what are they going to do for Peterborough? Is how the whining ended. I felt like slapping her.
I wanted to say, "What are you going to do about your whiney voice? How about you take a week in Theresa May's shoes....then complain, bitch?"
"And yes, I know she made a big mistake, in not getting off the fence of indecision...when she had the perfect opportunity to do so...may be she thought she could use manipulation...maybe she wasn't leading properly...maybe she was head over heart...that's Librans for you, always caught in a place of indecision and are crap at leaning one way or the other. Cameron was the same. Libra. Not the best leaders. Great diplomats, bad leaders. Churchill would turn in his grave. Terrible diplomat, great leader."
...and Boris and Donny...why don't you whiney-ass bitches do a stint in their shoes...you wouldn't survive? All this politician bashing...what's the point? We know how it goes...people in power come and go, they are all the same with a different face on them...some are good leaders, some are not...the way the cookie crumbles..get over it....and watch some carpool karaoke : )
How about we stop playing the blame game? What TF are you doing for Peterborough, as a human as a person...? The problem? Expectation. I have learned to never to expect a thing from anyone. This will constantly lead to disappointment.
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