Hello,

Welcome!

Thank you for taking the time to visit my blog. I suppose you could call it the 'Bridget Jones' Diary' (for the wedding industry); I've created it really as a way for me to vent about my upcoming nuptials without boring my nearest and dearest about things that, well, just aren't that important to them but are all I seem to think about now I'm a fully fledged member of the Engagement Club.



Saturday 30 July 2011

Another Rant Anyone?



I thought I'd start off with a warning.  This isn't going to be a short read, or influential or relevant to weddings at all really,  I'm just wanting to vent.  Again.  So are you sitting comfortably?  Then let me tell you about the series of events that happened to little 'ole me recently.  Well, Thursday night to be precise. 

It was my (soon to be) sister-in-law's birthday.  Mr S was working late so I said I would drop off her gift as soon as I left work.  I have been to their farm (she's married to a farmer) on countless occasions but as all country roads look the same to me, I'm never sure which roads I'm meant to follow.  After a courtesy-here's-the-directions-again-good-luck phone call from Mr S before I set off, I made my way through town and further out into the sticks.  Traffic thinned out, I was getting closer.  Then all of a sudden, from round a corner, a mahoosive tractor (a green one) towing an equally mahoosive wagon (in a matching green) was hurtling towards me.  He didn't slow down or anything and I had to swerve the car up on to the pavement to avoid being squished.  He didn't even care.  So I swore at him.  A lot.

Anyway, I carried on.  I was on the road I needed to turn right at the end of, however, 20 meters before my right turn which would have led me to the farm, a little man in a fluorescent orange jacket stuck a 'ROAD CLOSED' sign in front of me.  "But pleeeease?" I asked.  "No" said the little man.  So I turned down an even littler lane and followed a Tesco van who obviously didn't know where he was going either.  I know this because when we were 5-10 miles out in open countryside with only one lone house (you know, proper horror movie territory), he put his reverse lights on.  So I did the same.  He motioned for me to go first but I hadn't a clue where I was so politely smiled and waved him on in front of me.  I probably shouldn't have done in hindsight as the car was running on fumes.  I panicked and phoned Mr S.  "Well where are you?" "I don't know" I shrieked with a lump in my throat.  He tutted the 'God-you're such-a girl' tut.  The phone cut out as evidently, people who live in the middle of nowhere actually like to be cut off from the rest of the world and don't have any phone signals.  I sped up to try and find the Tesco van and managed to make my way back to a little village I know.  That's when Mr S phoned me again giving me more than a million directions all in one go.  I mean, how the heck am I meant to remember all of them when I'm lost?  In my panic stricken and angry/upset voice, I told him he had to stay on the phone and guide me to his sister's house whilst driving as I had told him I didn't know where I was going when I was on my own so this was all his fault.  Credit due.  He was fab.  Just like a sat nav but you could also have extra conversation and he checked I was still ok when pulling out of tricky junctions.  It did freak me out that he knew exactly where I was as I was driving (I had to check the car for hidden cameras and such like).  I drove past the farm, realised, started to do a 3-point-turn then realised a car was coming towards me.  Fast.  Turns out it was the in-laws.  I'd made it.  It was 40 minutes since I left work.  My shopping order was due to be delivered in 10 minutes. Turns out, my shopping was late anyway so it didn't matter too much. 

Not knowing this, I made a mad dash home.  I was met with a big hug in the back garden by Mr S who had now returned home from work (conveniently). 

Now, I've got a bit of a problem with my neighbours.  Two elderly gentlemen on either side of us.  Whilst I'm reading a book, doing something of obvious importance, or even just sunbathing (a rare occurrence nevertheless), they shout to each other over the hedges.  Over me!  Then a few weeks ago, Mr S came home to find neighbour 1 stood in our garden at OUR fence talking to neighbour 2.  Mr S confronted him in a polite but serious tone.  This time, neighbour 1 kindly offered us some homemade jam that his wife had made that afternoon.  "Thanks" we both said in unison, quite stunned at the generosity.  "Oh that's ok, it's plum jam.  I came and picked your plums yesterday".  He picked OUR plums from OUR plum tree in OUR orchard.  How very dare he.  My blood started to simmer.  "As long as I have some left for my plum crumble I'm doing this weekend" I said in as stern a voice as I dared.  I walked to the bottom of the orchard.  He'd only stripped the whole tree of plums leaving about 5.  Then he continued to say how he'd picked neighbour 2 a punnet as well!!  Blood officially boiled.  I had to go inside otherwise I think I could have said some things a lady just shouldn't be heard saying.  What has the world come to when you can't trust your neighbours not to steal your plums?


Then we found a leak in the kitchen window (as the blind was wet).  I still don't know what to make of that situation.

Somebody sent me this in an email.  It fits perfectly.

The reason this horribly long story is on my wedding related blog is this.  "We'll just have to put the wedding off", Mr S said.  I cried.  He apologised and said he didn't mean it.  I still cried.  This meant I woke up with puffy eyes and a migraine.  Then while I was putting on makeup for work, an eyelash fell in my eye and hasn't been seen since.  Every so often, my right eye will cry.  I'm not sure if it's because the eyelash is still there or if I'm subconsciously crying about the events I've just shared with you.

I still haven't got my DIY book that I won from Any Other Wedding, which is also upsetting me.  However I did get both of my typewriters that I won on eBay.  One is absolutely disgusting and is crawling with species of I-don't-know-what, hence why it is still in the box and all original packaging.  My other one is beautiful, and made up for all the crappy past events.  Only just though. 

My new vintage typewriter - made the day worthwhile!

Thanks for listening.  *Breathes a big sigh of relief*. 

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