A Little Ditty
Inspired by last night’s events
By The Harridan, 31 and a half
Oh wine list, wine list,
Thick white paper and grey modern font,
You whisper of climes unknown
And your names are hard to pronounce
But we are fooled, and order two of you
Or rather, Erik does
Because he is a bit French
Sneaky little wine bottles
You look lovely and full,
But you TRICKED us
And now my mouth feels
A bit rank.
So anyway. It occurred to me in the early hours of this morning after Barnaby and Noah had galloped into our room at 4am mistakenly thinking it was time for their “cornslakes breakslast” that there were some pertinent numbers pertaining to my life that I must post. The resulting high-pitched screaming from Custard, outraged at having been woken so rudely, afforded me time for some numerically-based reflection, while I lay in bed waking for the sleep fairy to visit. Which she/he did not, but that is another post-topic, fo’ sho.
Times have been chucked out of flat/asked to leave/evicted:2
How many children intend to have:4
How many hours children sleep on average (clearly proud of this one):12
How many beautiful brazilian cleaners:1
Number of BBQs in our hallway:1
Age at having met Mark (once future/now current husband):14
Blonde thin well-accessorised best friends called Amber:1
Diets undertaken in whole life:0
Novels have read this year:3
Magazines have read:100s
Years of continuous and overlapping pregnancy/breastfeeding: 5
Years at university:5.5
Jobs in UK:2
Number of houses we own in NZ:2
Rent we pay each week:£405
Diamonds currently wearing:3
Number of mullets:1 (but worn for about 4 years). Not now though
Redundancies:1 (at 6 months pregnant)
Years since last seen parents: 2
Hours to get home:24
Salary at last job before cruelly being made redundant:£23,000
Phew that feels better.
On Saturday morning, we decided a trip to Golborne Rd was imperative, even though we had people coming for lunch and had bought no food. Mostly it was because Mark thought that the Calipers-Selling-Man might still be there and he could by more calipers. Yes, because everyone needs more than one set of calipers. I don’t even know how to spell them. So here are the highlights of the caliper-collecting excursion.
The sign I covet for my walls:
The unintentionally retro busy delicious Lisboa Patisserie:
Inside, it is a shrine to all things yellow and sugary and delicious:
But the best of all, the Natas. These are the stars of the show. I have just eaten one and they are a bit lemony and custardy and silky and sweet and delicious. A bit like being cuddled by your bosomy vanilla-scented mama.
So we bought 16 for lunch. There are two left.
And the calipers-man was not there. We still only have one set. Sigh.