Myself and Princess Waffle went to the les petits riens this morning to dispose of some items we are never going to use again (that 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle of Van Gogh’s room at Arles – boy are we never going to do that again; my suede skirt that costs 20 euros to dry clean every time the Princess drools on it..). It’s a kind of junk shop and, since we were there, we had a wander round. The furniture there is very cheap and mostly a little unexciting, though there are sometines some very nice things. Now, the Waffle household does not need new furniture. In fact, we already have more than we need. I cannot therefore explain why I bought an antique sewing machine. I offer that it was very attractive and very cheap. It will look nice in the hall, really. No, of course, it doesn’t work and if it did, I wouldn’t know how to use it. It comes with its own table. When the nice people from the petits riens deliver I will post a photo. Of course, the photo won’t show the thing in our flat because the base is cast iron and it won’t fit in our tasteful, but teenchy, lift and the delivery men only deliver to the ground floor. With the best will in the world, I don’t think that Mr. Waffle and I will be strong enough to carry it up. And in my heart of hearts, I don’t really believe that Mr. Waffle will regard the addition of a sewing machine to our household goods with the best will in the world. Oh dear.
Had a somewhat trying time last night. We were out in the pub to celebrate the birth of a baby girl. The event was organised by the proud papa (Mr. Affable). Both parents are good friends of ours. When we arrived at the pub, it was to discover that, inter alia, Mr. Affable’s parents were both there, over from Cork for the week to meet the new grandchild. Now, his parents are very nice and everything but his father happens to be my first boss ever. I never really thought I would be good friends with one of Mr. Affable snr’s children but there you go. Life is weird. I suppose, we don’t have a lot in common, myself and Mr. A snr so he started asking me all about my career and how I had been getting on since I left his office 10 years ago. I feel he regards my current unemployment with mild disapproval. Perhaps that’s paranoia, maybe he was really thinking, why isn’t this woman talking about my grandchild, why is she bilging on about job hunting?
on 01 February 2004 at 01:38
on 05 February 2004 at 20:42