getcha little somethin’ that you can’t get at home…
Much excitement this week after successfully scoring my very own ticket to see the legendary Tom Waits in Edinburgh – and 6 rows from the front too (regular readers/visitors will be aware of my terrible eyesight and bravely borne battle with the contact lens.) I am delighted to be visiting Edinburgh (actually my birthplace, although anyone who has spoken with me would no doubt be surprised to hear it!) and certainly hope to make some new friends while there (although my chances of meeting the great Mr Waits are fairly limited – will have to settle for shamelessly poaching his lyrics to use as blog titles; top marks for anyone who identifies the above bit from one of my personal favourites!)
At home, I am slowly and frustratingly being buried alive under the interminable paperwork that anyone who has ever bought property will know only too well; search results, draft contracts, deeds, solicitors letters etc etc. Thankfully, a steady stream of rescuers has once again kept me occupied and fighting fit once the big (moving) day comes. I have been conducting unofficial surveys among my gentleman callers and it seems my wet room is likely to be a bit of a hit – good news for anyone who (like me) is extremely comfortable wearing nothing but soap, especially when entertaining (plenty of room in there for two; or more, if anyone is feeling exceptionally sociable.) I am hoping that a definite moving date will be available soon (for the benefit of all of us!) and once again, I’ll keep you posted!
I am setting off on my travels again in an hour or so but will return on Saturday and am planning a girls night in (not that this affects anyone other than me) of DVDs, Maltesers (my lifelong favourite since they got rid of those peanut/nougat things – Nutty bars?) and spending hours doing all the mysterious and secret ‘maintenance’ jobs that a consistantly ladylike appearance requires. The benefits of these rituals are not always immediately obvious but are assuredly there for the reaping to anyone keen enough to find out… after all, you wouldn’t want me to let myself go now, would you?
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