Sunday, 8 April 2012

And it's all over...

Yesterday was D-Day. Or H (halfway to seventy) day, if you will. And do I feel any different? No, not really (apart from a headache where last night's alcohol sucked the moisture from my brain like salt on a slug). Did I wake up looking like a middle aged old hag? Again no, although I did come perilously close this morning! It was actually a really good day; the mini-beasts were fairly well behaved, I had me an afternoon nap, and I got a birthday cake for the first time in years. Giant lemon cupcake...nom. The evening celebrations begain in our restaurant of choice, Graze, where I threw caution straight into the wind and had pizza instead of steak. Never let it be said that Bobs doesn't know how to surprise you! We moved onto Pitcher and Piano, an achingly trendy place brimming with orange skinned types. It was here that, whilst waiting at the bar, a blonde clone hit me in the head with the leopard skin handbag that she was, for some reason, carrying like a waitress carries plates. We headed upstairs and outside to escape the noise and find somewhere for me to rest my poor old aching legs. As all achingly trendy places do, it had decking and benches and heatlamps that we huddled under like moths under a lightbulb. Although we weren't as underdressed as the orange skinned clones that stood smoking, with goosebumps visible from space. It was one such clone that walked past us and suddently disappeared behind a carefully manicured shrub, having been a victim of her ridiculous shoes. And of course, when someone falls over, it's compulsory to laugh.
So yes, a good day had all round. And today has been spent still clad in pyjamas watching rubbish tv and eating Easter filth. Oh, and making shapes out of Hama beads that my daughter got for her birthday. For those not in the know, Hama beads are little beads with holes that you make pictures with on different shaped boards. And unbelievably addictive. You iron over the beads and they sort of melt together so the picture becomes solid. A total waste of a few hours but you feel strangely proud when you've finished. And so I leave you to get ready for another meal out. Tomorrow I will no doubt write from my bed, as I lay nursing the early symptoms of gout!

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