lazing on a sunny afternoon…
Well this weekend begins with the fabulous news that the tax man will not be taking all my dough in January, only most of it (and if I manage to be slightly more organised over the coming months, this itself could even be further reduced to some). My delightful accountant, having assimiliated the facts and figures, has informed me that I am getting let off quite lightly compared with last year, which was news to me but given that the settling into the apartment phase was almost over and swiftly followed by a return to my regular exciting adventures in travel, my overheads have in turn increased quite a bit and naturally, the mountain of used train tickets and hotel bills are all carefully itemised right down to the last scrappy receipt for pies, bottled water and the obligatory cardboard-encased foulness from Café Nero and its competitors, the usual suspects which populate station concourses the length and breadth of the land.
My average monthly expense sheet is so often filled with entries like ‘Tea and Hula Hoops – £2.00‘, rather than (for example) the infinitely more grand ‘La Perla raw silk peignoir, £350′ (although the days when I could fit even one finger into anything from the aforementioned were gone by the time I turned nine) that I occasionally suspect that I may be not quite keeping to my side of the glamour bargain supposedly beloved of ladies of reasonable means. I have always thus been tempted to save myself the trouble and dump the small-change, finicky bits in the blue recycling bag along with the junk mail and empty tissue boxes, being as I am often unsure of quite when an engaging thriftiness becomes downright tightarse. Now I remember why I don’t. Yay!
Naturally I have celebrated by purchasing many new items, and am planning some more photographs in earnest – the bright weather will not last forever and the lovely natural light has always been my favourite key ingredient. The sunshine has still not let up in weeks, it seems and I have often been out and about enjoying the warmth and fresh air from beneath a carefully applied coating of coconut-scented Hawaiian Tropic Factor 50 – following the unholy pink colour and murderously stinging shoulders I acquired just strolling around Edinburgh on that first really hot weekend a couple of months ago, I have no intention of being caught out again and all excursions out of doors are being carefully prepared for (at home I am far more lackadaisical, being happy to stick to Factor 15 and just keep away from the windows).
This afternoon I am heading off on a leisurely Big(ish) Shop in preparation for what is beginning to look like a surprisingly busy week interspersed with more decorating and the World Cup final tomorrow night. Inspired by both the football and my Borough Market tapas last week I will be hoping to later create some Spanish-style delights myself (incidentally for a foolproof recipe that would make Popeye weep see here – I speak as a staunch and unrepentant carnivore) and am looking forward to wallowing hedonistically in an oily, garlicky, lemon scented and paprika-spiked utopia for much of the remainder of the day weekend.
I may also grudgingly buy some Edam, just in case.
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