Life is pretty much back to normal now - or as normal as anything can be during a pandemic I guess! Sewing club started back up last night and damn if I didn't get there 30 minutes early (to set up tables and disinfect) only to find my bloody key wouldn't work! Oh I could get into the building all right as the front door was open, but when I got up to our sewing room I couldn't open the door - there was no beep, beep sound at all. So I tried opening up the toilets and again no luck. Damn! I had sent round an email earlier that day reminding people that we were starting up again so I had no choice but to stick around and wait. As luck would have it Patricia, the teacher, showed up first and fortunately her keys worked, so we were able to have our first get together - and very popular it seems to be too. It looks like everyone from last year is going to return and we have maybe another four newbies. I mentioned at one point that we might have to refuse any more requests because of space constraints, but a couple of the ladies just said "nah, we'll take over the kitchen too" - so that's what we might end up doing. Heck, I never knew it was that popular, but I have to admit we have a good laugh too. Patricia had asked if a colleague of hers could come along (no problem), but boy is she a bit weird. She hadn't actually brought a sewing project with her as she wanted to get an idea of what she might attempt, but when she spotted my now almost-finished baby quilt, she basically sat glued next to me and started pinning the border (badly). I'm thinking "back off lady and please keep your hands off my quilt as I've spent a year making this thing" (she had no idea what she was doing as she can't sew anyway), but ultimately I think once we can get her started on her own project I may be able to keep her away from my quilt!
I figured the battery in my key fob was gone but called the Mairie (who graciously let us have the room for free) just in case and she told me to come over for them to take a look. Oddly enough I keep a battery in my car in case my car keys conk out on me, but I didn't want to mess with this one as it wasn't my property. In the end it was easy enough to fix with a sharp tool to split the fob and I'll know what to do next time. Still, I think I should start carrying my Swiss army knife in my purse again just in case!
Talking of keeping my Swiss army knife on me, this past week I've been seeing FB reports (yet again) of the proverbial "broken down Mercedes" on the side of the road with some guy holding out money to try to get someone to stop. It's always a Mercedes or a BMW and they always have either Romanian or Bulgarian licence plates and you do not stop! It does make me a little uneasy driving back late at night from sewing club and my Italian lesson now, so I make sure to stay off the backroads - which pisses me off because you shouldn't have to do this should you! A few new incidents have also been posted of two "white van men" being stopped in a petrol station, one of the white vans having poorly painted "emergency medical supplies" on the side and then approaching a lone woman to buy petrol for them. On occasion they will also have a young child with them, but people are being warned not to have any dealings with them as they are con artists. So here we go again, more bloody scammers, potentially dangerous, and now I can't stop at night if I need petrol. Damn, they make me bloody mad!
In other news, I've almost finished Michael Cohen's book and I have to admit it is good, very revealing and, as I said before, surprisingly well written. After that I've had enough of Trumpanomics so I have indeed ordered the book of Doctor Zhivago and apparently it will be here very shortly. Oddly enough another book I've meant to read for years is All Creatures Great and Small - which has been sitting on my bookshelf since I was knee high to a grasshopper, so I think it might be time to up the ante a little and get back to the good stuff. Talking of speedy delivery, the other day I ordered a 2021 diary from Amazon UK because I like to have my diaries in English and I also get the important UK dates by doing it through them. And I'm thrilled to report that it arrived from the UK in 24 hours so I was very impressed as I can already start transferring dates/events. I don't write an actual "memories" diary (I consider my blog to be that), but it's the way I keep track of everything going on in my life. I know most people now put this stuff in their phones but I don't because I don't feel I can count on my phone half the time and would be in a real mess if I lost it. Call me a dinosaur (I guess my envelope budgeting system proves that right?) but I like a visual of what's going on in the coming weeks and I rarely, if ever, forget anything (well not as long as it's in my diary)!
My gardener showed up yesterday as the rain had let up, and in a few hours he got my hedges and my grass cut, so I'm well pleased. After a while the heavens opened up (yet again) but as I don't mind the rain anyway I stayed outside with him as I wanted to clean up more of the garden and get some seeds planted that my friend had given me. It's called love-in-a-mist and is a member of the buttercup family, self-setting and very sturdy so if it takes it will go a treat in my hard to manage soil. Fingers crossed as I find it beautiful!
Love-in-a-mist |
I've already done two yoga classes this week and am planning to hit the gym tomorrow for my first trial run with the programme the coach has set up for me. But guess what, I am (finally) starting to feel a difference, in my legs at least. I can actually feel muscles in my thighs starting to develop and it's a good feeling, because I honestly believe I've been working quite hard lately. Nothing else has changed as yet. Oh I've lost and regained the same six pounds over and over again and since I carry my weight on my belly I still look like a boiled egg in a pair of shorts, but the legs are starting ever so slightly to react and I'm delighted - even if I still have a helluva long way to go!
When we came back from yoga today my neighbour commented that she wished she'd shaved her legs before going. I'm not at all hairy so I barely notice, but she has dark hair and you can see it. Still, who cares, we're just a bunch of old women and I doubt anyone's eyesight was good enough to be checking out her legs anyway. Still, that reminded me of a few years ago when I was in England and my sister was getting my mom ready for a doctor's appointment. Now you ladies will know that once you hit menopause you start discovering hairs in places you never knew you had places, and my sister had my mom sitting there with Veet on her upper lip and chin to get rid of the old lady whiskers. With my neighbour mentioning shaving, I remembered and pulled up on the computer an Amazon review I'd seen years ago. It was sent in in 2012 by A. Chappell (a man) in the UK giving his review of his experience with Veet and it's a hoot - very much "toilet humour" - but then I'm like that anyway. Now I'm English but even I had to think twice about some of the expressions he used, so when my neighbour asked what I was laughing at damn was it hard trying to translate things like "Rastafarian dangly bits" into French. If you're interested, his review is below!
"After having
been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian I decided to take the
plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly
successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult
bits.
Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do
the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit of a treat. I ordered it well in advance and working in the
North sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the
previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...oh my fellow
sufferers how wrong I was.
I waited until the other half was tucked up in
bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to
the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting
for something to happen. I didn't have long to wait.
At first there was a gentle warmth which in a
matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only
describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on
hitting the ceiling with my head.
Religion hadn't featured much in my life until
that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the
violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of
the meat and two veg.
Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I
tried to wash the gel off in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the
plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the
bathroom across the hall into the kitchen. By this time walking was not really
possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of
cold relief.
I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub
of ice cream, tore the lid off and positioned it under me. The relief was
fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing
soon returned.
Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't
managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for
something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed
a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to
be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some
between the cheeks of my arse.
This was not doing the trick as some of the gel
had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was
running its engines behind me. This was probably and hopefully the only time in
my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should
give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the
pain.
The only solution my pain crazed mind could come
up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before.
Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts
coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and
investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice
cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while
muttering..."Ooooh that feels good"!
Understandably this was a shock to her and she
let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in it caused an involuntary
spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite
some speed in her direction.
I can understand that having a sprout farted
against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special
surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what
the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status...
So to sum it up fellas, Veet does indeed remove hair, - but also dignity and
self respect.......!"
Hair removal for men! |
I tried reading Dr. Zhivago once and discovered it made a very good paperweight. The review is interesting. As for Veet? I think fur should stay where it is. I don't understand this current desire for bare skin.
ReplyDeleteOh if I don't like Dr. Z I won't finish it as I think life's too short to read a bad book. I also like hairy men (hairy women not so much), although I do balk at the gorilla look! And nope, I don't get this trend for bare-skinned men either - although it is somewhat pleasing to think of men having to wax all that hair off. I think they did a scene in Friends where Chandler and Joey tried waxing and it was brilliant (of course)!
DeleteWhen I sewed in public and this old lady tried to help me, I asked her not to. She would not take the hint and kept smoothing the knit material until it was three inches longer than originally. Finally, the teacher had to tell her to quit. Really, you need to tell her you want to do it "all by yourself."
ReplyDeleteI have never heard of or seen that flower, but it is very pretty.
Please don't stop for anyone.
I happen to like hairy men, but that was so funny about the guy applying the depilatory to his dangly bits. Tommy laughed, too.
Oh I'll be ok with this lady - just need to find her something to do with her hands (I also suspect Patricia brought her along under duress because she is NOT at all Patricia's type). The only time I've stopped for someone when driving has been a couple of old ladies lugging groceries home in the pouring rain and a young girl in the same situation. Sadly I won't stop for any man and definitely not these scammers, but it does frighten me somewhat as they always hang out along the more isolated back roads. I've seen 6 postings of the guy holding out the cash already this week, and always in different spots. I'd suggest he kept his money and used it to buy a better car if I had the nerve to stop - you know, a car that doesn't keep breaking down. And as for Veet, I remember sometime ago - probably in the 60s when it was fashionable to have pencil-thin eyebrows. One of the girls I knew used Veet on her eyebrows and had to walk around with two slug-sized scabs on her head for a couple of weeks, hence I wouldn't touch the stuff!
ReplyDeleteI almost fell of my chair reading the Veet review. Lol! On another note, I am glad you now know that there are people with bad intentions and you can take precautions to keep safe.
ReplyDeleteI suspect our Amazon reviewer was inclined to "embellish" his story just a little, but it was funny anyway!
DeleteSometimes I think that product reviews become a sort of comedy writing competition.
ReplyDeleteYou are certainly going for the fitness! Good for you!
You know, I've always wanted to be fit enough to enjoy the mountains, particularly now I'm retired, and I really never was - and didn't have a good excuse for that. Now I'm loving it, so I know all I have to do is keep it up because if you stop it's too easy to fall back to general sloth, and then climbing back out of the hole is twice as hard. Wish me luck!
DeleteThat Veet tale is hilarious. I wonder if he’s reviewed wax strips as well?
ReplyDeleteThere's an author whose books I love that wrote a similar scene in one of his books (he gets an infection in his private parts because his wife has been sneaking "love potions" into his coffee) and he describes his wife walking into the kitchen at midnight to find him "basting" his willy with a turkey baster and it's hilarious, although I can't for the life of me think of his name. I suspect our Amazon reviewer embroidered it a bit, as I said above, but in all honesty it's more like a Bayeux Tapestry at this point!
DeleteI am sitting here rolling laughing! I am saving this for my somewhat hirsute
ReplyDeletemale members of my family to read!!
I bet their eyes will water just reading it!
Delete"Veet" sounded familiar but not quite right. "Neet" was/is a depilatory that is vicious. I tried it and felt I was being eaten alive by ants. And, it was not in a sensitive place unless you call my calves sensitive.
ReplyDeleteFor some reason I think they use different names for the same product in different countries. Oil of Olay is one. The same product but they change the name. So it sounds as though you were struck by the dreaded Veet/Neet plague also!
DeleteThat veet review was too funny. I couldn't stop laughing. OMG that poor guy and his wife:)
ReplyDeleteHe's quite the raconteur isn't he!
Delete