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Balls – highly overrated! What with sudden realisation that, like Cinders, I really had nothing (that fitted) to wear and that, due to general winter hibernating tendency, an intense grooming session was necessary – emergency shopping, waxing, painting and suchlike was conducted with utmost dispatch.  Such dispatch in fact that I forgot to exercise caution and nearly caused a major incident in the lingerie department of very traditional Milsom Street Store. While hunting for the special substance that would apparently keep my rather plunging neckline in place and so my modesty intact, I, not knowing it by any other name, asked a shop assistant – in clearly rather too ringing tones – Do you have any tit tape? Just behind a pillar and therefore out of eye line was a very old gentleman and we were alerted to his presence by a terrible choking noise. Apparently I had unwittingly caused this rather frail gentleman to inhale his false teeth. He eventually got them up and out to the accompaniment of panicked back patting from the assistant and frantic apologising from me. He decided then that it would be best if he waited for his wife somewhere less stimulating.

As (don’t laugh) Presidentof the Bath WI I was nominated to produce the table centre pieces on the theme of Spring. The competitive monster was unleashed – there would be no dull floral arrangement here! Oh no – nothing else would do for me than to produce the essence of Spring – New Life. Poor Oppressed Husband therefore found himself in the taxi on the way to a ball wearing his extraordinary (Patrick Moore esque hitch ’em high) dinner jacket cradling an enormous Vase containing many baby goldfish, a blossom wreath and some floating candles. Cannot say this added to his aura of inner contentment nor did this improve with the realisation that he was sitting next to someone who was dressed like a cross between the wicked witch of the west and a poisonous toad. Her sartorial garb turned out to be actually a very apt reflection of her character. Still adversity encourages the creative spirit so Oppressed Husband entertained himself by creating many wondrous accolades, sins and hobbies for her delectation – which led her to announce that they had so much in common and thus make a pass at him. Much to his astonishment!

I don’t think we will be going out again for a bit.

At the time of writing I am in a sad state of low level injury and make noises like an 83-year-old whilst going up or down stairs, rising or sitting, having, as was rather unkindly and unsympathetically pointed out, a triad of middle class injury. Broken thumb – skiing injury, twisted knee – dog walking, and various lower back strains – riding horses over the jumps. It seems that I have arrived at the age where one has to have something to show for having any fun.

So whilst clearly ageing v fast it appears I am still not growing up any. A spectacularly Blonde moment occurred on meeting the new fiance of a friend. Mistook the conversation focus so totally that I managed to respond to his reference to the outlawed practice of bride burning (or suti) with surprise and comment that I did not think that Sooty had been cremated with this owner and anyway he was only a puppet not a real life companion.  Confusion reigned for awhile after that!

As you can tell – We have been getting out and about with varying degrees of social success.

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