Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend...

“Ingratitude is treason to mankind.” James Thomson


Sunday 24 October 2010

This is a garden.

Shame on me for admitting this but I have got myself caught up - figuratively and in my imagination - in the violent ruction* surrounding this exclusive interview with Joan Collins. Everyone has an opinion. Joan Collins is fabulous. Joan Collins is horrible. Joan fancies herself to be the organ grinder but is actually the monkey. (That last opinion is my own. As soon as I hit 'publish' I'll be on the lookout for car bombs, sniper assassins and sinister-looking packages arriving in the post. Again.)


I have been considering what impact La Collins should have on my life and have concluded that it should be minimal, except that I may find myself reading this excellent article every once in a while. For one thing, it is extremely entertaining. ("I would certainly never dream of wearing jeans to the Ritz or to any of the restaurants I frequent. However, I did wear them recently on a movie and dinner outing with my husband, Percy, daughter Tara and her two children in Weston-Super-Mare.") For another, I find the Femail sidebar there on the right to be an excellent way to waste as much time as you like and probably a little more. It's also instructive and educational if you are like me and don't know who any of the celebrities are.


Now, to the meat of my post. I have ill-advisedly come into the possession of two pairs of high heeled shoes, both beautiful, both chunky but glamorous, both somewhat more open than a hobnailed hiking boot, which is the preferred item of footwear to keep my toes from perishing. I am a person who is perpetually cold of extremity. (I am wearing five layers as I write.) My fingers and toes are usually a shade off gangrenous through cold. Problem: I want to wear some pretty but unwarming shoes on the occasion of my birthday, but wish to conserve the use of my feet. I know there are young and/or slim mover-and-shaker types who combine open toes with brightly coloured hosiery, but I'm not sure I'm one of those. Suggestions?


I'm a bit of a saddo as I forgot my birthday was on Thursday (duh). I have a special dinner planned but neglected to arrange anything for the lonely daytime. I could sit home watching Saturday Night Live dvds and eating crisps 
...actually that sounds okay (what with it being the first series, original cast, Gerald Ford jokes, etc....
but thought I should stop being so lame and find something fun and memorable to do.

Thus and ergo, I am travelling down to delightful Hastings to visit my friend of many moons and moods, the delightful MT. I'm hoping to engage in cocktails, nice lunch and/or some sort of cakes-and-tea scenario. Any recommendations?


To conclude, I invite you to ponder this message. You are most welcome.










*There are so many wonderful words synonymous with 'ruction' that it became a dispiriting task to exclude any. Fracas, anyone? Melee?**

**I love that I can use the thesaurus and dispense with any original thinking!