Dammit! I wrote a long, erudite and amusing blog yesterday which I then lost completely when the computer crashed. Now I have to be witty all over again.
So. The day after the wedding we enjoyed a late breakfast. I was entertained by Maureen the landlady who asked Fiona what the bride's dress had been like 'because there's no point asking the boys'. Fi politely revealed that it had been white. Then Maureen went on to complain about the football season restarting and not knowing 'what the men see in it' while Fi rolled her eyes.
We were invited to a barbeque at the Leeman family farm. The weather had broken and it was absolutely tipping it down, so it was a good job Helen and Colin hadn't been able to get married on the Saturday as they originally preferred. Instead they had arranged a great bash in a barn. We chatted and met the horses and Helen's sister's Romanian boyfriend carved up an entire cow and put it on the barbeque. Al and Barry proceeded to eat it all. We had chance to see some of the first photos of the events and eventually headed off replete.
We headed back on the Sunday, back to the ferry, where again someone had lost a small child. What is it about ferries that makes parents abandon their children? We stopped at the smokehouse hoping for a late lunch but they had just stopped serving, it being all of 3 o'clock. We belatedly remembered that they had done the same thing to us the last time we went there. So much for the customer being king - they lost our custom (10 people!) and that of the couple that followed us in. Instead we eventually tracked down the Cream of Galloway ice cream place, no thanks to the smokehouse woman's instructions. Here we tucked into the best commercial ice cream I have ever tasted: I had double chocolate and lemon curd. Al and Barry went back for seconds. Since Al had been going on about buying a landrover ever since he went off-roading with Fiona and Ailsa (in much the same fashion as I go on about getting a dog, I imagine), I bought him a toy Defender. Surely almost as good as the real thing!
Then it was a steady drive back up. Mo and I discussed starting swing dances in September, something Al had been quite keen on when I first mentioned it. But now, sitting in the back of the car with Ray, they formed some sort of anti-dance alliance.
'What day is it on?' asked Ray. 'I have some evening classes to teach...'
'I'm not sure,' says Morag.
'I think I'm busy that day,' counters Al.
But! To no avail. Morag is going to sign us all up.
So it was back to the flat and my parents who had been having a good but predictably exhausting time at the festival. With great wisdom, I had booked Monday off work and was able to catch up with them and enjoy a sample festival day myself. We went to The Early Edition - a sort of daily Have I Got News For You with free coffee and croissants (gallingly, we got there before they wheeled out the doughnuts). Then we saw Romeo And Juliet - A Rock and Roll Love Story. This was, predictably since it was put on by the University of West Connecticut, very earnest and amateurish.
I had a rehearsal in the evening and we had dinner on Tuesday night, after which Al and I went to a late-night stand up show called Stick Your Job Up Your Arse. This appealed to me for obvious reasons, and was also very funny, being the true life story of a guy who ditched his pharmaceutical sales job to become a comedian.
I've also seen the excellent Bacchae and a play called Long Time Dead. This was about climbers and very interesting staged with great lighting, as well as being quite emotional. Not sure if I'll get to see much more of the festival, despite people showing flyers at me when I'm clearly destined for work. But hopefully we'll fit a film in too.
Friday 24 August 2007
Wednesday 15 August 2007
Wedding Belles
Last week saw me finishing work on Wednesday with a smile on my face and a song in my heart as I didn't have to return to the office for five whole days. We were going across to Northern Ireland for Helen and Colin's nuptials and the associated partying. I duly finished scrubbing my flat in preparation for my parents to stay in it while I was away and we set off, along with Ray, Morag having flown ahead to do bridesmaid type stuff.
We took the scenic route down through Galloway, taking it in turns to drive. Both the boys fell asleep at one point, leaving me to entertain myself by wondering what to wear in my hair. We passed the Cream of Galloway (mmm, ice cream) and a smoke house I visited with Fi, Hils and Morag last year (mmm, smoked stuff). But there was no time to stop! We had a ferry to catch.
'What do you have in the boot?' the guy at the terminal asked Al. I saw him mentally run through the list: bags, a rug, spare oil, a kilt, a dress, twenty five different sorts of hair decoration...'Oh, you know...just stuff,' he succinctly summed up. Ferry man nodded. 'On you go then.'
The ferry terminal at Stranraer proved less than worth hurrying for, however. I'd been quite hungry when we went in, but the sight of the array of 'food' on offer in the tin shack convinced me to wait until we were on board. Instead, our combined brain power (together with that of Hilary and Barry who we met in the car park) won £5 from the 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire' game. Then Hilary and I looked at magazines. I bought Glamour and she went for Elle (free bag) while the boys took the piss until Al found a copy of Landrover World he actually wanted to buy.
We sat in the car with Al reading Glamour (what men really think about sex) and I read Landrover World (top tips for buying a second hand Defender) until Fi, Ailsa and the dogs arrived. The dogs looked pleased to see Al and put muddy paw prints all over the car and him. The crossing was swift and uneventful other than an announcement being made for someone to come and collect their lost child. It took us ages to exit the terminal at Belfast, partly because of rush hour traffic and roadworks, but we also had to drive across some carpet soaked with disinfectant as a foot and mouth prevention. They didn't ask us to get out of the car though, so foot and mouth must not survive on shoes.
We made it to the B&B, which was in the middle of nowhere but quite pleasant in a newly-built sort of way. One couple, it was announced, would have to stay in the other guest house up the lane. I volunteered us on the grounds that it would be mean to make Ray go on his own and anyway, we had just spotted some freaky fake children. The landlady had these manikin models of kids scattered round the house in dark corners. Maybe they were supposed to look like they were playing hide and seek but they actually looked like they were crying and/or hiding from a paedophile. So I was more than happy not to share a house with the weirdly realistic things (the dogs barked at them too).
Helen, determined to make the most of the event, was meeting folk in Armagh for drinks so we drove in for some food as well. Here we met up with Rob and Phil who had earlier in the day called me.
Rob: 'You know the wedding?'
Me: 'Yes.'
Rob: 'Well what time does it start exactly?'
Me: 'One o'clock.'
Rob: 'Excellent. And the church would be...?'
We were all knackered and poor Fi was not looking forward to her debut singer/songwriter performance so we tried to head off not too late, to Helen's chagrin. We charged Morag with making sure she didn't drink too much. And I drove a full car back to the B&B while Al and Barry went to get some booze. My passengers coped admirably with my inability to work the headlights and the occasional excitement of an unsignposted 90 degree turn in the rain and we arrived back safe and sound and with time for a few drams before bed and the Big Day.
The Big Day started with a Big Breakfast, as Maureen the landlady provided us all (apart from Fi) with two eggs, two sausages, three slices of fried bread, unlimited tea, coffee and toast and what can only be described as a 'heap' of bacon. I ate it all. Felt a bit sick, but it would have to keep us going till the evening meal. I squeezed into my dress with Al's help and faffed around choosing a hair decoration for about an hour before we set off. We were under strict instructions from Helen not to be late so we arrived almost an hour early and wandered around - or tottered around in my case, as I was wearing my lovely but rather impractical Prada shoes. It turned out we had even more time than anticipated as Colin's family were held up for half and hour by road works. Luckily the Reverend kept us entertained with practice runs of the responses while various wedding party members got out of cars and walked the last two miles.
The wedding itself was a nice service - not too long or with too much God stuff. Helen's brother read a beautiful Celtic blessing which didn't mention God at all. Fifi sang amazingly and sounded completely relaxed doing so. The bride and bridesmaids looked gorgeous but were outshone by the cute flower girls, who behaved perfectly for the service but proceeded to bash each other with their flowers and wrestle each other to the ground outside.
We took a roundabout route to avoid the roadworks between the church and the reception and ended up being first there, in time to greet Helen and Colin who had been stuck in a traffic jam in a Rolls Royce with only a bottle of champagne to sustain them. Then the fun really began. Both a champagne and a Guinness reception! Huzzah! My camera had broken so I appointed Al my official photographer. I stood around drinking champagne and directing him: 'Al - get a picture of the bride and groom.', 'Al - the bridesmaids.', 'Al - a group shot.' He was very patient (possibly due to the amount of Guinness available).
The meal followed, with waitresses constantly offering me more wine, champagne and potato of various forms than I could fit on my plate or in my multiple glasses. We shared a table with friends of Colin's parents who had been roommates at university. Just like me and Morag, I pointed out! Just think, they said, in thirty years we could be at each other's children's weddings...scary thought.
Helen made a fabulous speech and Colin an almost as good one...we hid in the bar for a bit and accidentally missed the ceilidh but there was a great cheesy disco. The first dance was 'Especially for you'! I danced a lot and was very happy and slightly drunk...the combination of the three later led to accusations of me being much more drunk than I actually was. In all, probably my best wedding ever.
We took the scenic route down through Galloway, taking it in turns to drive. Both the boys fell asleep at one point, leaving me to entertain myself by wondering what to wear in my hair. We passed the Cream of Galloway (mmm, ice cream) and a smoke house I visited with Fi, Hils and Morag last year (mmm, smoked stuff). But there was no time to stop! We had a ferry to catch.
'What do you have in the boot?' the guy at the terminal asked Al. I saw him mentally run through the list: bags, a rug, spare oil, a kilt, a dress, twenty five different sorts of hair decoration...'Oh, you know...just stuff,' he succinctly summed up. Ferry man nodded. 'On you go then.'
The ferry terminal at Stranraer proved less than worth hurrying for, however. I'd been quite hungry when we went in, but the sight of the array of 'food' on offer in the tin shack convinced me to wait until we were on board. Instead, our combined brain power (together with that of Hilary and Barry who we met in the car park) won £5 from the 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire' game. Then Hilary and I looked at magazines. I bought Glamour and she went for Elle (free bag) while the boys took the piss until Al found a copy of Landrover World he actually wanted to buy.
We sat in the car with Al reading Glamour (what men really think about sex) and I read Landrover World (top tips for buying a second hand Defender) until Fi, Ailsa and the dogs arrived. The dogs looked pleased to see Al and put muddy paw prints all over the car and him. The crossing was swift and uneventful other than an announcement being made for someone to come and collect their lost child. It took us ages to exit the terminal at Belfast, partly because of rush hour traffic and roadworks, but we also had to drive across some carpet soaked with disinfectant as a foot and mouth prevention. They didn't ask us to get out of the car though, so foot and mouth must not survive on shoes.
We made it to the B&B, which was in the middle of nowhere but quite pleasant in a newly-built sort of way. One couple, it was announced, would have to stay in the other guest house up the lane. I volunteered us on the grounds that it would be mean to make Ray go on his own and anyway, we had just spotted some freaky fake children. The landlady had these manikin models of kids scattered round the house in dark corners. Maybe they were supposed to look like they were playing hide and seek but they actually looked like they were crying and/or hiding from a paedophile. So I was more than happy not to share a house with the weirdly realistic things (the dogs barked at them too).
Helen, determined to make the most of the event, was meeting folk in Armagh for drinks so we drove in for some food as well. Here we met up with Rob and Phil who had earlier in the day called me.
Rob: 'You know the wedding?'
Me: 'Yes.'
Rob: 'Well what time does it start exactly?'
Me: 'One o'clock.'
Rob: 'Excellent. And the church would be...?'
We were all knackered and poor Fi was not looking forward to her debut singer/songwriter performance so we tried to head off not too late, to Helen's chagrin. We charged Morag with making sure she didn't drink too much. And I drove a full car back to the B&B while Al and Barry went to get some booze. My passengers coped admirably with my inability to work the headlights and the occasional excitement of an unsignposted 90 degree turn in the rain and we arrived back safe and sound and with time for a few drams before bed and the Big Day.
The Big Day started with a Big Breakfast, as Maureen the landlady provided us all (apart from Fi) with two eggs, two sausages, three slices of fried bread, unlimited tea, coffee and toast and what can only be described as a 'heap' of bacon. I ate it all. Felt a bit sick, but it would have to keep us going till the evening meal. I squeezed into my dress with Al's help and faffed around choosing a hair decoration for about an hour before we set off. We were under strict instructions from Helen not to be late so we arrived almost an hour early and wandered around - or tottered around in my case, as I was wearing my lovely but rather impractical Prada shoes. It turned out we had even more time than anticipated as Colin's family were held up for half and hour by road works. Luckily the Reverend kept us entertained with practice runs of the responses while various wedding party members got out of cars and walked the last two miles.
The wedding itself was a nice service - not too long or with too much God stuff. Helen's brother read a beautiful Celtic blessing which didn't mention God at all. Fifi sang amazingly and sounded completely relaxed doing so. The bride and bridesmaids looked gorgeous but were outshone by the cute flower girls, who behaved perfectly for the service but proceeded to bash each other with their flowers and wrestle each other to the ground outside.
We took a roundabout route to avoid the roadworks between the church and the reception and ended up being first there, in time to greet Helen and Colin who had been stuck in a traffic jam in a Rolls Royce with only a bottle of champagne to sustain them. Then the fun really began. Both a champagne and a Guinness reception! Huzzah! My camera had broken so I appointed Al my official photographer. I stood around drinking champagne and directing him: 'Al - get a picture of the bride and groom.', 'Al - the bridesmaids.', 'Al - a group shot.' He was very patient (possibly due to the amount of Guinness available).
The meal followed, with waitresses constantly offering me more wine, champagne and potato of various forms than I could fit on my plate or in my multiple glasses. We shared a table with friends of Colin's parents who had been roommates at university. Just like me and Morag, I pointed out! Just think, they said, in thirty years we could be at each other's children's weddings...scary thought.
Helen made a fabulous speech and Colin an almost as good one...we hid in the bar for a bit and accidentally missed the ceilidh but there was a great cheesy disco. The first dance was 'Especially for you'! I danced a lot and was very happy and slightly drunk...the combination of the three later led to accusations of me being much more drunk than I actually was. In all, probably my best wedding ever.
Thursday 2 August 2007
A day off
Well it is August so now officially summer whatever the weather may have to say about it. Guess what! I just touch-typed all of this. It only works if I'm not thinking about it though.
Anyway, I had a day off booked to take Callum up to Fife where Al was busy dogsitting. Callum came prepared for the journey with a collection of Simpsons-related goodies (board game, notebook and comic) but in the end we spent most of the drive chatting. Subjects ranged from What Edinburgh Needs Most (Me: sunshine. Cal: a theme park) via Places We Would Live If We Had a Time Machine (Me: ancient Rome. Cal: ancient Rome and/or Asterix's village) to Does Rome Still Exist (Yes.).
We arrived to find a gorgeous sunny evening. Al had kept the dogs happy, losing only one shoe to Bridie, which he had finally located in the garden (where he had earlier saved a baby bunny from her Jaws of Death). He cooked me a burger and the boys then insisted I play Buzz, a game-show style playstation game. I didn't want to but they made me and then I beat them by 3,000 points, ha!
An early night and then a slightly less long lie-in than I had planned as the dogs were squeaking to be let out. Bridie proudly brought the previous day's bunny to the back door - clearly it had not been as unharmed as Al had thought, so I made him go and finish it off while I had a shower.
It was a bit rainy so we headed for the aquarium at St Andrews, which was very informative, though it made me sleepy by being extremely warm and dark and full of soothing whale music and relaxing fish. I'm surprised people didn't just snuggle up next to the koi carp for a snooze. We saw rays ('Cool'), clown fish, aka Nemo ('Cool') and seals '(Very cool'). Cal got to hold a star fish. We also found a set of scales which for 20p would tell you which sea creature you weighed as much as. Callum weighed the same as something really boring, a trope, I think it was. I was a small grey seal and Al was a blue shark. Not a blue whale. I got told off for saying that.
It was sunny when we emerged which immediately made me panic as we had left Bridie in the landrover. What if she was dead! I ran back to the car going through nightmare scenarios in my head of how I would tell Fiona and Ailsa that I had roasted their dog to death whilst looking at cute seals. We'd had to park miles away because of the boring ladies British Open Golf Championships. But of course when I got there, Bridie was just enjoying a pleasant nap and spurned the water I poured for her and didn't seem to bothered about getting out of the car at all.
I took her back to the Aquarium to meet the boys and we went into town for ice cream. Callum pointed out every ice cream dispensary we went past on our way to Janetta's - which was a lot. I reassured him that the ten minute walk would be worth it as Janetta's would have hundreds, if not thousands of flavours to choose from and was anyway the pinnacle of human ice cream achievement in all ways. When we got there he chose chocolate and Al chose strawberry. Dear Lord, they are creatures of habit those two. I had turkish delight though, and very good it was too.
Bridie had a bit of the bottom of my cone.
We walked back via the cathedral, harbour and castle. I told Callum the myth that if you put your hand into a certain spooky hole in the cathedral wall only a good person would get their hand back, so of course we had to go and try that (not so effective on a bright sunny day). Then I pointed out the pier and told them about the pier walk, which Al embellished suitably ('And sometimes they fall off into the water and break their legs!'), and the traditions of swimming at castle sands and not treading on the martyrs' initials. We popped in to the quad, where Bridie peed on the lawn.
In fact, Bridie was having a whale of a time. With Baffie left at home because of her arthritis, the Dark One had all the compliments to herself. Many small children stopped to pat her. Many little old ladies admired 'him'. A man waiting outside the ice cream shop compared her behaviour favourably to his own dogs. Bridie lapped it up. Maybe she only seems evil in comparison to the Golden One. She also got very concerned that our pack stayed together and was particularly worried when Cal went out along the breakwater to play on a rock and Al and I sat on a bench instead. She wasn't happy till Cal was back safely with us.
When we got back we sat with Baffie in the garden for a bit to make up for her missing all the attention. All in all, a lovely day and I was sorry to have to head home.
Once I got home, I realised that I couldn't stuff any more clothing into my bottom drawer. This struck me as strange since it only contains my sports clothing. I still nurture the impression that I am not a very sporty person. So I pulled the drawer out to investigate and discovered:
Anyway, I had a day off booked to take Callum up to Fife where Al was busy dogsitting. Callum came prepared for the journey with a collection of Simpsons-related goodies (board game, notebook and comic) but in the end we spent most of the drive chatting. Subjects ranged from What Edinburgh Needs Most (Me: sunshine. Cal: a theme park) via Places We Would Live If We Had a Time Machine (Me: ancient Rome. Cal: ancient Rome and/or Asterix's village) to Does Rome Still Exist (Yes.).
We arrived to find a gorgeous sunny evening. Al had kept the dogs happy, losing only one shoe to Bridie, which he had finally located in the garden (where he had earlier saved a baby bunny from her Jaws of Death). He cooked me a burger and the boys then insisted I play Buzz, a game-show style playstation game. I didn't want to but they made me and then I beat them by 3,000 points, ha!
An early night and then a slightly less long lie-in than I had planned as the dogs were squeaking to be let out. Bridie proudly brought the previous day's bunny to the back door - clearly it had not been as unharmed as Al had thought, so I made him go and finish it off while I had a shower.
It was a bit rainy so we headed for the aquarium at St Andrews, which was very informative, though it made me sleepy by being extremely warm and dark and full of soothing whale music and relaxing fish. I'm surprised people didn't just snuggle up next to the koi carp for a snooze. We saw rays ('Cool'), clown fish, aka Nemo ('Cool') and seals '(Very cool'). Cal got to hold a star fish. We also found a set of scales which for 20p would tell you which sea creature you weighed as much as. Callum weighed the same as something really boring, a trope, I think it was. I was a small grey seal and Al was a blue shark. Not a blue whale. I got told off for saying that.
It was sunny when we emerged which immediately made me panic as we had left Bridie in the landrover. What if she was dead! I ran back to the car going through nightmare scenarios in my head of how I would tell Fiona and Ailsa that I had roasted their dog to death whilst looking at cute seals. We'd had to park miles away because of the boring ladies British Open Golf Championships. But of course when I got there, Bridie was just enjoying a pleasant nap and spurned the water I poured for her and didn't seem to bothered about getting out of the car at all.
I took her back to the Aquarium to meet the boys and we went into town for ice cream. Callum pointed out every ice cream dispensary we went past on our way to Janetta's - which was a lot. I reassured him that the ten minute walk would be worth it as Janetta's would have hundreds, if not thousands of flavours to choose from and was anyway the pinnacle of human ice cream achievement in all ways. When we got there he chose chocolate and Al chose strawberry. Dear Lord, they are creatures of habit those two. I had turkish delight though, and very good it was too.
Bridie had a bit of the bottom of my cone.
We walked back via the cathedral, harbour and castle. I told Callum the myth that if you put your hand into a certain spooky hole in the cathedral wall only a good person would get their hand back, so of course we had to go and try that (not so effective on a bright sunny day). Then I pointed out the pier and told them about the pier walk, which Al embellished suitably ('And sometimes they fall off into the water and break their legs!'), and the traditions of swimming at castle sands and not treading on the martyrs' initials. We popped in to the quad, where Bridie peed on the lawn.
In fact, Bridie was having a whale of a time. With Baffie left at home because of her arthritis, the Dark One had all the compliments to herself. Many small children stopped to pat her. Many little old ladies admired 'him'. A man waiting outside the ice cream shop compared her behaviour favourably to his own dogs. Bridie lapped it up. Maybe she only seems evil in comparison to the Golden One. She also got very concerned that our pack stayed together and was particularly worried when Cal went out along the breakwater to play on a rock and Al and I sat on a bench instead. She wasn't happy till Cal was back safely with us.
When we got back we sat with Baffie in the garden for a bit to make up for her missing all the attention. All in all, a lovely day and I was sorry to have to head home.
Once I got home, I realised that I couldn't stuff any more clothing into my bottom drawer. This struck me as strange since it only contains my sports clothing. I still nurture the impression that I am not a very sporty person. So I pulled the drawer out to investigate and discovered:
- A pair of running shorts
- Two pairs of running leggings
- A thermal running/ski-ing vest
- Thermal running/ski-ing long-johns
- An elasticated knee bandage
- A pair of jodphurs
- Four running tops with wicking
- Three bandannas
- Three charity run t-shirts
- Four bikinis
- A swimsuit
- A pair of tracksuit bottoms
- Padded cycling shorts
- A gym bag
- A running cap
- A pair of hiking trousers with zip-off bottoms
- and a travel towel.
Blimey! And that doesn't even include things like my wetsuit, riding boots and chaps, cycling and riding helmets and sports bras and running and hiking socks that reside elsewhere. Maybe I am quite sporty after all. I managed to fit everything back in by discarding a bikini that was held together by a safety pin (Jenny says I am not allowed to wear clothes held together by safety pins), the bandannas and the charity t-shirts, all of which will go in the charity clothes bin soon. In the meantime, maybe I should do some exercise.
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