Friday, 9 May 2014

A patchwork of my days...

with love in every stitch and step.

made by Viv - got yesterday, if you don't know her work... 
best you trip along and feast your eyes

Having a fit with my leg in the air...
like you do, I suggested to Ted we take advantage of
the two for one offer of tickets for
Grand Designs Live.

Wednesday found us clutching our old dears
rail card, brown luggage label attached to our left lapels
we like intrepid explorers set off.
With wonderment at our intrepidness we negotiated our
way off the train at London Bridge.
Feeling this called for a celebration we made our way to 
the Mug House 

a pub nestling cheek by jowl along the Thames and under London Bridge.

Borough Market next for the most amazing selection of Street Food.
We were certainly getting in the groove.

We chose the Ethopian food which was absolutely blooming delicious.
Change out of a tenner for two large portions of chicken, rice and two
choices of veg or pulses.

Having eaten up and supped up, I could cheerfully have gone home then.
Pity we didn't really, because even going on the Docklands
Light Railway for the very first time, didn't come close to sweetening the pill
of how dire I thought the
exhibition was...
Think the Ideal Home Exhibition on speed, then you get the feel.
The first stand we visited was a stand selling mitts for arthritic
hands... says it all really!
Ten minutes with my hands in the mitts, the salesman
proceeded to highlight the benefits.
I was sold, however the price made me think again.
The classic get-out...
'We've only just got here, so we'll wander around and think about it!'
"Oh dear, that's a pity because we've only got
six pairs left!'
A likely story thought cynic Lin.
(That actually was the truth, because today we have tried
to get a pair sent and they've sold out until next week.
That'll teach me... clever sod!)

Walking away I said
 'I can't bring myself to let YOU spend that amount of money!'
Work that one out?

After a quick flash round I wanted to go home
'I don't like it here!'
What a spoilt lump.
'Would you like to wander along the South Bank?'
Bottom lip quivering...
'No, I just want to go home!'

I wouldn't mind but we got to the station too early to
get the Evening Standard.
WSD knows when she comes on a Friday night
her entrance fee is the ES mag...
'No room at the Inn!'
issues out of Wicked Stepmother's (WSM)
pursed lips.

Chapter Two
(the following morning)
I woke up to a pain-free hand
imagine that!

Getting out of bed, kicking myself as I did,
(not an easy manoeuvre  in itself) I thought 
'What a clot, what price pain-free?'

In my defence I did have a 10 am
appointment with a doctor for acupuncture.

Asking his advice, even he said two appointments
with me would buy the mitts.

I then set off to the Decorative Living Fair
at Eridge to see my best chum Viv.
One of the few fairs she now goes to, 
luckily for me.

On arrival home I showed Ted this...

'How much?'




  1. Sorry to hear about your painful hand and the need for acupuncture, mitts etc.. I wish I could think of a witty comment but I am incapable - not in the alcoholic sense I hasten to add.

    1. Thank you Mr YP, my hand problem is from years of hard graft. Lifting tons, yes tons of bales of straw on and off trailers, spinning, knitting, sewing and crochet, also cooking for long hours at a stretch have all taken their toll. The joys of earning your living by using your hands. Talking of which, there was a very moving piece in yesterday's paper about Julian Lloyd Webber having to give up the cello because of the damage done to his hand.

      You always seem to have a witty comment, I love your use of our wonderful language.


  2. I have an acquaintance who sells some sort of magnetic bracelets which she swears work - like you, I find these things hard to believe in. I'd need anklets, I think, as it is my feet that twinge. Lucky you, I'd love to go to the Eridge fair!

    1. Yes, Nilly I've tried them, even Lettice had a magnetic bed mat to ease her wobbles. Aches and pains come with the territory I suppose, if that's all I've got to worry about it's nowt!

      Eridge Fair is good; beautiful surroundings, interesting things, high end prices tailored to ease the ladies who lunch out of their husbands bank bonuses.