Laughter is the best medicine?

Monday 21^st October.

Sometimes funny things happen right in front of me [like when the old biddy in her car drove off before her equally wrinkly husband had properly got in and he ended up hopping alongside the car like he was using it as a child’s scooter] and I love those moments. I had another today.

Work and play was pretty much as usual today. I met a couple of my Tutor Students who were feeling homesick as their friends still at school were on half term and we don’t have those. I think they were surprised when I told them to take Friday off and go home for the weekend! If they left on Thursday night they’d get a full half term day with their chums. [I also told them I would deny I ever said this!]

We walked and swam as usual and, as the restaurant had only a few bookings, Dom Told Laura she could swap for another night if she wanted. We went to Ruth and Dave’s instead.

Ruth and Dave are some of my Jewish friends [long story, I won’t recount it here]. Dave is a prat of the first order. He claims to have ME and as such doesn’t work and claims invalidity benefit and all sorts of allowances. He is on medication which seems to be personality changing. He used to be a laid back, funny guy who would do anything to help you. He is now become tetchy, short tempered and, to be frank, a positively unpleasant old curmudgeon! I have been friends with them since I was a tot [they were friends of Mum & Dad] and I kept up the acquaintance after M & D’s divorce.

Ruth is redecorating her lounge. They have a lovely leather three piece suite and they are wanting to cover the walls with paper and paint that reflect the colour of the suite. Seems logical, really. You would love the Sanderson print wallpaper they’ve bought, it is gorgeous BUT the paint is a real bug bear. They have bought over £30 worth of match pots! They just can’t decide on a colour. Tonight a new one had arrived and Ruth insisted Dave put some of it on the walls so I could give my opinion of the colour. [It came during the day, by courier from Farrow & Ball apparently.]

Now Dave opened the match pot in the lounge and poured the paint into a small tray and then proceeded to roller it on to the wall in four of five places around the room. So far so un-silly. While we were waiting for it to dry [BTW, I thought painting at night was a stupid idea as the light wouldn’t show the true colour of the paint, but I kept schtum!] Ruth went into the kitchen to make us a cup of tea. Loll and I went to help out. She makes her tea in mugs, not a teapot!

Dave had painted the walls in question with splodges of the match pot colour when we strolled back into the lounge with the tea. He had also managed to pull one of the covers from the sofa, exposing the leather. Ruth went, “Oh Dave. You’ve not got paint on the sofa have you?” and she pulled the cover back into place. She wasn’t too know, because you couldn’t see it, that Dave had left the tray and lidless match pot on the cupboard behind the sofa, so when she pulled the cover the match pot and paint tray went flying! Luckily they had put plastic sheeting down on the floor, so the paint only splashed the wall then made a puddle on the sheeting. I thought this was very funny. I know schadenfreude! But what happened next was funnier and serves them right for not listening to me.

I saw the door start to open and said, in a loud voice, “Look out. I think Ellie is trying to get in!” Ellie is their Tibetan Terrier. They ignored me. I tried again with “The door, Ruth!” Either she didn’t hear [unlikely] or didn’t get what I was saying, because seconds afterwards Ellie trotted in, danced in the paint behind the sofa and then trotted out again; followed by Dave bellowing at the dog as it left painted paw prints all down the hall carpet and into the kitchen!

I had to do something to distract myself as I had a huge fit of the giggles welling up inside. I could feel my face adopting a rictus grin as I tried to stop the giggles bursting out. Luckily Laura surreptitiously speed dialled my phone and I looked down as though I had received a message on it. Ruth knows nothing about phones! I claimed I had a message telling me my brother had arrived at our house and we needed to go. We scooted out, past the new dog print carpet, as quickly as we could. Yelling our goodbyes as we went.

Outside the two of us just hooted all the way to the car and for quite a lot of the way back home. It was the fact they’d ignored my warnings about the dog and it had re-patterned their carpet as a result which had tickled me so much. It wasn’t quite the tears down the face, sides aching laughter I sometimes get, but more of relief. If I had burst out laughing at R & D’s that could have been the death knell on our friendship. It was bubbling up under the surface and, like a fart in a bath, the results could have been hilarious but so embarrassing.

A footnote to this. They went to John Lewis the day after and their design team matched the paper with fabric for curtains and the right shade of paint. 

They should have done that in the first place, methinks!

Tuesday October 22^nd.

Well. I have decided about Arran. I drew up a cost / benefit analysis chart and the costs outweighed the benefits by quite a lot. I suppose if I hadn’t got a mortgage on my little house I would have looked at it differently but I don’t want to start paying out for something extra which will be an on-going cost and deplete my savings too. I know Dad is of the opinion we could earn income from tourist use of the place but I trawled masses of Arran Holiday websites and apart from the main summer holiday months most of the properties seem to be “un-let” for a lot of the year. Brook Cottage, in Whiting Bay [where we have stayed twice now] wasn’t booked at all from the beginning of September until the school half term, which has just finished. It isn’t booked again until Christmas!

I spoke to Dad about it and he is pretty sanguine. He knows that once I have made up my mind I have done so through a thorough and careful examination of all the pros and cons. He is not upset or anything. I didn’t think he would be, TBH. He has used my unemotional approach as a sounding board and has also decided not to go ahead. He has a back-up plan, though! Typical Dad. The Whiting Bay Caravan Park has a vacant pitch. Their site fee is £2K per year and to site a brand new van on the pitch would cost £30 to £35K, depending on the van.

Now Uncle Chris has a Static Caravan and it is as well-equipped as my house! Fully insulated, centrally heated, double-glazed. His even has a built in washing machine! If Dad is thinking of buying something like that I could easily go along with it. He has e-mailed all the details and some photographs of the pitch and the site and the costs involved. Now this is a runner! He doesn’t need an immediate answer but I think I could go along with this one. I have no rush as the pitch has been vacant for a year, apparently [the site owner blames the recession!] but I have told him I’ll let him know by the weekend. He has agreed to wait.

The two job day was as eventful as usual. Also as usual I had a visit from Christopher who came to talk about the concert on Saturday. I will just have to get used to him wanting to be my friend I suppose. So long as he doesn’t go all “lovey dovey” again.

I had a mad e-mail from Nadia. She has invited me and “my significant other” over to Derry if we want before Christmas! I mean, come on Nadia. I am not going to inflict your bigotry on Laura. The e-mail was very conciliatory but I have lost trust in her veracity. I would quite like a visit to Northern Ireland but I think Miss Nadia wouldn’t form part of my itinerary.

Laura has got a First for her current assignment. The one she spent the last two weekends polishing. I am really pleased and impressed. I feel so much out on a limb when it comes to her studying. I am so un-mathematical, I feel kind of guilty that I can’t help or assist her in anyway. I told her this and she said that just being here and caring that she does well was enough encouragement. The never ending cups of tea and the making her stop for brain breaks etc have all contributed to her grade. She just loves the fact that I know what to do to help her remain focused even though I have no idea of what the work involves.  What else would I do? I just love her so much. I hate feeling as though I am helpless with maths!

I had a Skype session with Jill while Loll was at work. It must have been the early hours of the morning in Warnbro. I was a bit worried. Seems I have every right to be. Jill wants to have sex with this guy from school and was wanting some advice! Should she go ahead and do it? Apparently she has already let him finger her and she has wanked him off! I tried my best not to look shocked or get upset, even though every bone in my body was screaming “NOOOOOOOOOO!” What the fuck am I supposed to tell her? I am so scared that what ever I do Susannah will find out and I’ll be in shit so deep I’ll never get out. I have made her promise that she will not tell her Mum that she has spoken to me for advice. She has always been good about keeping her promises. This is so different, however.

One plus side, I asked her what she was going to do about birth control. She said she’d not thought about it. So after a rant along the ether about how stupid that was and the confession that I had fallen pregnant even while taking the pill [I had to use shock tactics to get the message across] she agreed that they would not have sex until they had sorted out contraception! I hope she wasn’t just paying lip service to that. I have told her that if she ever tells anyone about my pregnancy I will personally fly out to Australia and kill her!

The compromise. They are not going to stop fiddling about with each other. I sort of guessed that. She is going to go to her GP and ask for the pill. She is going to refuse to have sex at all until that happens and also if her BF doesn’t have a condom. She may decide to try and give him a blowjob on the understanding that is she does, he has to lick her to orgasm too!  [She wanted to know how to do that properly, so I explained what I did when giving them.] I was almost in tears hearing my 16 year old niece talking like this. I know it is part of her growing up and if she hadn’t spoken to me she’d have gone ahead and done it anyway. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear or talk about.

She wanted to know all about my pregnancy and what I did about it and why. I told her as much as I could to try and impress upon her that while sex is wonderful it does have repercussions too, which need to be in your mind all the time. Having an abortion, while it seems perfectly acceptable at the time, and in your circumstances, does leave a horrible nagging seed in the back of your mind, which never goes away. It makes you a different woman afterwards, even though you may delude yourself that it doesn’t.

OMG. My relationship with Jill has changed forever. I did have a huge cry after she had logged off. I am devastated by this revelation. I should sort of guessed by her interest in things sexual she displayed over the summer. I am inclined to speak to Susannah anyway just to put her in the picture. BUT would Jill ever forgive me if she found out and would she ever confide in me again?

My even bigger worry, which is selfish and wrong and shows just how partisan I am, is the thought of going through a similar conversation with Annabelle. It would break my heart to have her confess to me what Jill has just done. Laura was my reassuring shoulder when she got back from the restaurant, although her thoughts and observations on the fact that Annabelle sounded as though she may be gay didn’t exactly ease my worries and fears. [TBH I had thought that about Annabelle myself but I would never express it out loud!]

Wednesday 23^rd October.

Happy Wednesday.

Much happier Wednesday. If I ever have another call like Jill’s I don’t know what I’ll do. I answered her concerns as truthfully and as honestly as I could. I hope I have done the right thing? I am not going to tell Susannah. I just can’t. If anything could put you off being a mother it is this!

Still today was great. Walk and swim as usual. Work was pretty sensible and straightforward. My favourite barrister has invited me and my partner to a party at her house this weekend. We will probably attend. Mrs Briggs has been invited but hardly any other people from XXX & Y solicitors. Christopher is not on the guest list. Phew.

The best thing about today was the tea bag incident. It has kept me amused all day. It happened at about 8.10 this morning. We had a punnet of strawberries in our fridge, which we ate with our dinner last night. After dinner I washed the pots and Laura cleared the rubbish. This is important. She normally puts the plastic rubbish in the plastic recycle bin at the top of the cellar steps. [We have three recycle bins, paper, glass and plastic.] For some reason, known only to my gorgeous blonde bombshell, she put the strawberry punnet into the ‘normal’ rubbish bin. That was the important bit. Why?

Well at 810am I made a third pot of tea for the morning. I emptied the tea pot into the sink, put a fresh tea bag into the pot and poured the boiling water in, leaving it to mash. At the sink I squeezed out the tea bag and ran some water down the sink to take away any staining liquid. I then turned around, stamped on the pedal bin’s pedal and flung the tea back into the bin.

Before the bin lid had time to crash back down, the tea back came hurtling back out of the bin [with the same force with which I’d thrown it in] and it hit Callie, full square on the top of her head! She looked up, then looked around, sniffed at the offending missile and did a doggy stomping off to flop in her crate on her bean seat.

Described it takes minutes, to watch it took seconds, to explain it to Laura and to tell her why I was hysterical with laughter took about fifteen minutes. There were tears running down my cheeks, my sides ached. Every time I tried to explain I just started laughing again. Eventually Laura joined me in laughing even though she had no idea why!

Evidently, the bag had hit the end of the strawberry punnet and, obeying Newton’s Law of motion, the equal and opposite reaction had occurred – causing the tea bag to make a hasty exit from the bin to whack the poor pup lying on the kitchen floor minding her own doggy business. It was so funny. So totally unexpected. If I had tried to set it up as a visual gag I don’t think I ever could. It was one of those, ‘everything just clicks into place at the same moment’ events. I could even pour out the tea I was laughing so much.

Laura, in the lounge heard the commotion and thought my laughter was a continuation of yesterday’s Jill’s tears and came through to comfort me. I couldn’t do anything other than say “Dog, bin, teabag” – which sounds a bit like an Arab terrorist’s name –before dissolving into the hysterical giggles again.

You couldn’t have asked for a better antidote to the gloom of last night. I collapsed into giggles at work too, every time I recounted the flying teabag tale to my colleagues. That is two very silly things in the space of three days. I don’t know if my jaws and sides can stand any more laughter this week.

Thursday 24^th October.

The 16!

I have never been in St Marie’s Cathedral before, but you could tell you were in a Catholic Church at once. It brought all sorts of memories flooding back. Some were good, some not so good. Laura was being the extreme one tonight and I was the girly one. She was in leather jeans so tight they needed the two of us to help her get in them. She had a bandeau on in the same shade of red as the jeans and her hair was spiked with chopsticks and tangled with ribbons. She’d borrowed my stiletto porn star shoes and looked scary as hell. On top of this she wore my detective’s rain coat, as it was pouring down when we set off and continued all of the journey and walk to the church too!

The concert was very good but an example of if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. They had done a reworking of Allegri’s Miserere which, to my ears at least, did it no favours at all. They had taken out the treble / soprano top C section and had messed around with it in other ways too. I had been explaining to Laura just how wonderful that bit was when I had seen them before and they didn’t even do it!

In contrast they performed a new working of the text by a chap called Macmillan which was brilliant. So much so that I have ordered a CD of the Macmillan Miserere from Amazon.

I thought it was a good idea to put two Misereres on the same bill as they were totally different interpretations of the same words. It is a pity that the new one was far better than the one Mozart was alleged to have stolen from the Vatican!

All in all, the performance was very good. Although I did hear some stuffed shirts voicing the same opinion about the Allegri which I had said earlier. That was a bit disconcerting to find that I wasn’t alone in my views and that people who looked as though they were dead from the neck up shared my opinion. Just goes to show that the books and covers adage is true!

Laura just thought the whole thing was wonderful. She hasn’t seen The 16 before and they are a revelation when you hear them. It had stopped raining after the concert so we strolled through the city centre via the Peace Gardens and Fargate [in a big loop] to where I had parked the car. The rain didn’t seem to have deterred the Thursday night revellers out in the city. Or even make them review the clothes they were wearing. Why are there so many guys out at night in T shirts or ordinary shirts but no coats? It is baffling. Perhaps where there is no sense there is no feeling!

Tomorrow is the third of our three concerts in a week, when we are taking the nephew and niece to see Peter and the Wolf. They are going to Granny’s for the afternoon, she will come with them to the Montgomery Theatre and then YT has drawn the short straw of driving them back to Leeds afterwards. I may work on Phil and Jane to change that arrangement! A party on Saturday night means we will have had a very busy week!