New Year's Eve 2012

It's finally New Year's Eve, I jogged for 20 minutes this morning.  Back/hip, still not good, going to resort to drugs today, some kind of anti-inflammatory should help.  I'm here with my coffee were it's warm and light, outside however is damp, dull and dark with high winds throughout the night and this morning.

I have a little shopping to do this morning then Bee and I are heading out for lunch at Ness Gardens and a nice walk, it's become a bit of a tradition over the past few years, if Bee is home, we go for a walk around the gardens on New Year's Eve or as close as we can to it.  After that, I'll be home watching TV until it's time.

Like I said in another post, 2012 was full of angst but today, I'm thinking of the happy moments and all the times I had a smile on my face, all the times I laughed out loud.  I had some really good times and I wonder what 2013 will bring me.

So, fast forward to just after noon when Bee arrives to pick me up.  We head to Ness, park up in an empty car park and proceed to read the notice on the door, I have to add at this point that it isn't usually closed on New Year's Eve.  So, the visitor's centre, through which holds the restaurant and the entrance, is closed until January 1st while it has some work done, however 'Friends of Ness,' (that is, members,) can access through, 'the Friend's Gate.'  This is where the notice should have continued with, '... which is located ...' but no, no idea where the secret, (it's apparently secret because we couldn't find it,) gate is located.  We walked up and down the length of the grounds and came across numerous gates, all of which were padlocked. 

After 45 minutes of searching, we're about to give up after yet another hopeful option is once again, a dead end when... (I must pause here to warn you that your mostly law abiding friend may actually be a criminal... now...) Bee pipes up with, 'do you think we could squeeze through those conifers?'  The conifers are tall and spaced close together so they are growing up rather than out.  I place my hands through and between two young trees and open out my arms, we could probably, actually squeeze through.  I go first then take Bee's bags and she follows, after a swift brush down of our coats, we're in and I feel like I've just broken into somewhere that I shouldn't be, like... Fort Knox.

Ness is a huge garden, the car park can be full but you may only pass two or three people in about 4 hours however today, it's a little eerie to begin with, we are totally alone, no sound, not even the waterfalls are falling.  We don't do our usual route because the ground is so sodden and so we stick to the pathways, we park ourselves on Mrs Singh's bench, (all of the benches are dedicated with a small plaque, Bee wants one when she leaves,) and we have a beautiful view.  It's bright, the sun is right ahead of us and low, we can see the rolling landscape below with the pond glistening at the very bottom. 

At this moment, the two of us produce miniature wines to toast the New Year, I think I started that about 3 or 4 years ago and now it's tradition, we're just enjoying our wine when a couple approach then another then another, we're both desperate to ask how they got in but if we did, that would give us away and expose our creative entering.

Moments later and it's as if God has flicked a switch, it's suddenly dark, the sun is gone and although it's only around 2pm, the light is gone, it's dark and the sky looks like it's about to bring forth torrential rain.

I'm home and showered and I've even done my hair again, (so easy at the moment,) I put a wash load in, watched the Auckland fireworks for New Year on the Internet, check that CJ is okay and has plans then phone to check in with J, her dog Molly is not well, (that's the one that C called 'dog' when she was little,) she is whimpering in pain and had to pay a visit to the vet today.  Molly has pain in her back but hopefully has just pulled a muscle, she's on pain killers... fingers crossed.

I'll have Jake Gyllenhall to keep me company this evening, (in the form of the 'Prince of Persia', not in person, sadly,) then a few minutes before midnight, I'll head outside with my coal, silver, salt and bread, (I hope it doesn't matter if the bread is straight from the freezer,) then I'll watch a few fireworks then let myself and the New Year in, take pain killers for the back/hip situation, then head to nod. 

Happy New Year Chick xxx

Four Chirstmases

Let me save you the trouble, I love Reese Witherspoon, but with regards to this film, don't bother x

December 30.5

Yesterday afternoon, I phoned my cousin to wish her a belated Happy Birthday, there is a large age difference but in another time, I think we would have made great friends, she talks so straight to me, talks to me like a friend, no frills, no pleasantries, very straight and just what a person needs. 

When I asked what my cousin would be doing for New Year, she told me then added, 'New Year hasn't been the same since your Mum's.' Mum always used to throw New Year's Eve parties and I'm not sure what the protocol was, I just knew, when I was a kid that at New Year, everyone showed up, my sisters, their husbands and kids, my cousin's, their kids, sometimes their kids friends, neighbours, it was just an open house and so exciting, I spent the whole day waiting for everyone to arrive. 

Around 11.50p.m. I would hurry everyone to get their coats and usher them out of our back door, through the garden, down the path, out of the garden gate, follow the path around the back, to the front of the house, we'd then walk around and around the grass verge in front of the house linking arms usually with my brother's-in-law George or Jim or my cousin's.  Someone would have the car radio on so that we could hear the official count down, we'd all stop at the appropriate time, link arms and hold hands, countdown out load from 10 - to - Happy New Year!  Kiss everyone 'Happy New Year' then sing 'Auld Lang Syne' before allowing the male with the darkest head of hair to knock on the door, in his pocket he carried coal, silver, bread and salt.  The rest of us would line up behind the chosen one.

Mum would always stay in, she was the one who opened the door to the New Year and we'd all file in, one by one, wish her 'Happy New Year' and kiss her on the cheek.  The kids, of which there were many at the time, nieces, nephews, cousins, they all, one by one, fell fast asleep on Mum's bed or fell asleep then were carried to Mum's bed, and ended up, covered in coats until it was time to load them into cars for them to be driven home.

As the years went on, the dark hair turned grey and eventually, people stopped knocking on the door just after midnight. 

I can't remember when the last one of those nights was, but I don't think I've felt part of a family since that last night.  Part of a whole family that is.  It all began to unravel shortly after the last one.

December 30th

It's December 30th  and here at least, it has finally stopped raining, the sun is trying to shine, it's still cold but it is still December, so... well.  I slept pretty well but my back/hip, whatever it is, that painful lower left quadrant, kept disturbing me, not sure what I did yesterday but those two physio sessions are now a very distant memory, in fact, it's as though those miracle sessions now never happened.

I'm here at my usual Sunday morning haunt, I've had a lovely coffee, read a little, wrote a little, people watched a little, chatted to the girls behind the bar, after this, I need to recycle then I've been invited for coffee with my nephew CJ and Bee may call in after church.

So CJ and I discuss the coming year, our aims, mostly his and it was unsaid, but we both know that I am going to be his head coach for the coming year, I'm proud to do the job.  I will be Burgess Meredith's 'Mickey Goldmill' to Sylvester Stallone's 'Rocky Balboa.' Amongst many plans, he is going to get into peak physical condition, aiming to run a few 10ks and I need to find him a new hairstyle, see the power I have?

Later I'll be heading home to sort, (if my back/hip allows,) and iron, my life is so exciting.  Bee doesn't call in, she overslept and didn't make it to church, think she is still jet-lagged.

Looking Back

So we're nearing the end of 2012 and let's not beat around the bush, it wasn't the best was it?  Full of worry and stress and sadness and of course saying goodbye, whether that was to incredibly special people, who could never to be replaced, family, dear friends, jobs, people that made us happy, made us feel special, made us feel secure.  It was a year of loss for us, but mostly for you.

Christmas is about spending the day with those that you love, if you can, and we both did that.  My day was planned with military precision so that I could see everyone I was supposed to, but it all worked out and I had a lovely day.  I spent our Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, also with those that I love, except instead of presents on that day, I got one of my at least, bi-annual lectures.  The person who lectures me does it from a place of love and I know that he means well but in reality, he hasn't a clue about my true situation and I just want to tell him that he is quite frankly, talking out of his hat, but I would never do that... because he means well and because he cares.  So I sit there and take the berating. Why do I live in a property with that many bedrooms when there is just me?  Why this? Why that?  I sit like a scolded child because otherwise, I would point out that actually, he doesn't understand me at all and all of his seemingly good suggestions are actually supremely flawed and totally inaccurate for me but I would never point that out because then I would make him wrong, so I take it and I'm close to tears but I suck it in, until the next lecture.

The journey home was not good, heavy rain, a mostly hour long, downhill journey with so much surface water on the roads, I didn't feel like I could feel the tarmac, I dropped my speed to 50 for most of the journey, even that wasn't slow enough.

After calling in at my eldest sister's on the way home on Boxing Day, I finally got home about 5pm, phoned my brother-in-law to wish him a belated Merry Christmas, he was working on Christmas Day, watched some TV and then went to bed and slept in fits and starts waiting for my alarm to go off ready for work.  I did that thing several times where you hear your alarm go off, and you wake with a start, but the alarm was only in my head.

Work wasn't too bad on Thursday, think I was on my own for the first 1.5 hours, I left at 2pm board out of my skull.  My two 'nearest' people, J and Bee are both unavailable.. via the phone, so it's just me this evening.

Christmas Eve

It's Christmas Eve and I woke early but after a good nights sleep.  I've come out for coffee  and brought with me an old journal, and an old issue of Elle magazine.  The journal makes me laugh out loud (slightly embarrassing,) and the Elle has so much reading in it, it's two years old but no wonder I haven't managed to part with it yet.  You see, this is why I have trouble recycling my magazines.

I jogged for 25 minutes this morning at a pretty good pace, got a text from my friend Lisa to say she was on her way to work after all, that was at 6.40am.

I'm having a lovely and peaceful hour, (just listening to 'Summertime' on the Starbucks sound system, it's much preferred to their choice of Christmas music this year which seems to be some kind of Tudor/Gothic ensemble, not my taste at all.)  I'll be heading back into the insane traffic soon, well, not much traffic but people driving insanely, I'll just give everyone a really wide berth.  The rest of the day will be spent dropping off presents and packing reading for tomorrow.

Going to be a long day, my sister Bee is staying overnight after midnight mass, she'll get home around 12.35 so that's when I need to stay up until, then I need to get as much sleep as possible before I have to get up to make breakfast then drive to my cousins.

Wedding Belle

It's December 23rd and it's such a different day today from yesterday.  We must have had 48 hours of solid rain but today, there is a light wind and the sky is powder blue, it's beautiful, and so mild so I'm wearing a long sleeved t, a gilet and my jeans, (and a bit of Swarovski, well you have to don't you?)  Surely this ensemble is unheard of in December? 

I read a little and write a little over my coffee then it's the Sunday paper purchase and a bit of foodie things then home.  I jogged for 20 minutes this morning, same as yesterday but it was easier today and I did a great stretch afterwards, I feel so sorry for my body and I know I have been neglecting it, the stretches feel great. 

It was great to chat last night, so glad you called.  I feel like the time difference and, well, life has really got in the way these past few weeks when I wanted to check on you the most.  Now that I've confirmed which medium is best for you to read what I write, I'll make more use and will send you messages more often.

So I'm heading home to wrap presents and after that, I expect a visit from Bee, I haven't seen her since I deposited her at the airport en route to NZ on November 20th, will be good to see her.

My main news from last evening is that my cousin, (always felt like a little brother,) PQ, has finally got engaged to the lovely Kate.  I have to confess that I had a sneaky feeling in my water that an engagement was imminent and I bought a card a few days ago.  I won't tell them that I bought a 'wedding' frock in the summer... just in case.  It's blue, floaty and romantic, perfect for a Spring/Summer wedding, if it's an Autumn/Winter wedding... I have a problem.  Seriously, I'm so excited and so looking forward to a lovely day.  They are a wonderful and perfect couple and this will be the last family wedding bar one for about the next twenty years, so it will be very special indeed.  Finally... some happy news.

Twas the Week before Chirstmas

It's the week before Christmas.  The weather is much milder but much wetter than the previous recent weeks and parts of the country are experiencing severe flooding but... all okay here.

Each work day has passed pretty quickly, (huge difference from the initial few weeks since I started the job,) but, more bad news on the work front, won't bore you with the details but in summary, we're now faced with losing our jobs next year, not under one set of rules, but under 2, double the threat, but what can you do?  Still, if one more person tells me, and the rest of us, 'not to worry, just enjoy Christmas,' I may lose my rag.

I've watched quite a few films during the evenings this week, 'Walk the Line,' never seen that before, did not know Johnny Cash's story at all prior to the film, great film, Reese Witherspoon and of course, Joachim Phoenix were brilliant, sobbed through 'Steele Magnolia's'... again, 'The Wedding Date,' love that film and 'Day and Knight,' Cameron Diaz and Tom Cruise both good, film not terrible but don't think I'll be watching it again. 

I came home on Friday to find that a neighbour's kid is still using my address for his college mail, (I do think it's an honest mistake but it's driving me nuts now, I have asked politely if he'll correct the mistake.)  Also, for the second time in a week, a Christmas card which is destined for an entirely different address, has been delivered to me, same card... twice... not my address.  The only thing that is the same, is the house number, amazing, I will put the same card, back in the post tomorrow... again. Everything is just so annoying at the moment but it's probably just me.

So I'm standing in the supermarket this afternoon, in the frozen aisle, staring at the array of oven chips, I'm looking for 'Asda's, Rustic Oven Chips.'  I scour for several minutes the multitude of different versions of oven chips.  The irony is, I rarely have them, but when I went to have some last weekend... I had five chips left.  'What have you lost?'  A Supermarket person arrives behind me and obviously recognises the look of a woman who can't find what she's searching for.  'Asda's own, Rustic Oven Chips,' I declare.  'I was at a wedding with you... Donna!'  'No, I'm... oh, Donna's wedding?'  'You sat at our table, it was....'  'It was 8 years ago last August, wow, you have a great memory.'  I profuse.  (I remember it well, it was a very special year for me and it meant the world that Donna and Gary had invited me to join them on their special day, which also happened to be my birthday.)  I wouldn't have known this man from Adam, I feel like bleep, put my make up on 10 hours ago, so of course there is hardly anything left by this time, yet he remembers me from 8 years ago when I was 8 years younger, done up to death and in a posh frock.  I can't decide if I'm flattered or gutted, only you can decide if this is good... or tragic.  Do let me know.  Donna's sister is expecting a baby any day now and so is my new friend's daughter, she's a few weeks early but the doctor's have told her to get herself ready.   I wish him well with the new Grand-baby and I will make sure I look out for him in the future.  How the heck did he remember me? 

It's Saturday and I spoke too soon, some flooding around here, had everything crossed as I drove through some flooded roads but my little car kept going and didn't cut out, my Close is flooded but it's not threatening our homes and at 2pm, the rain finally seems to be easing off.

Frosty

So the week wasn't terrible, well, Monday to Friday anyway.  I can now, finally do some tasks in work, (not for the lack of under-training,) but I can actually do some things on my own now which means that the days don't stretch on like they're each a year long.

It's cold, -1, -2 degrees and home is only comfortable if the heat is constantly on low.  Friday the rain pours like it's the end of the world and it's dark all day, but milder than it has been all week long.

Saturday, I head out for my coffee then home to blitz like there is no tomorrow, cleaning, hoovering, tidying, ironing, putting clothes away, bleaching, sterilising, you name it and it was done, I positively sparkle, (apart from the two, mostly unused bedrooms.)  So Christmas can arrive tomorrow as far as the cleaning is concerned, this place looks great, even if I do say so myself.

Saturday night and I spend a lovely few hours with an old friend.  It's so great to talk and while I mostly listen to my friend's hopes and fears, they could be my words.  Good company and made me laugh a lot, reminded me of how often that happens... not that often.

Despite the company, I'm still in bed early so it's a win, win situation, gosh I do love my sleep, especially at the weekend.

Sunday and it's bright and cold, I have another busy day ahead but this is one filled with writing Christmas cards and catching up on emails and phone calls, and getting back to reality.

December 8th

It's Saturday 8th December, I have a huge list of stuff to do, to buy and to accomplish.  Day begins around 4am, I've only had about 5 hours sleep but I'm wide awake.  I can't get back to sleep, so I eventually get up and jog for a mere 10 minutes but better than nothing then I head out to J's, I need to drop some stuff of at hers in case she needs it today, I head out to the Supermarket to stock up on essential, weekend provisions then head out for my coffee.  It's a very quick Christmas blend at Starbucks today.  Mr Regular is late arriving, he's only just arriving as I'm putting on my coat to leave.  'You're leaving early,' states Mr R, we are both, creatures of habit and so it's noticeable when we deviate.  'Lots to do today, see you soon,' I offer, then I'm off.

I recycle then head to attempt to choose a Christmas tree at a local garden centre.  Think I've told you before but I really do think that choosing a Christmas tree on your own is one of the most depressing things you can do, maybe it's just me but that's what I think.  So with this in mind, I need to be stealth like, get in, choose a tree, get out, as quickly as possible.

Mr Gleave, lovely and patient owner of the garden centre, once again helps me to choose, he holds up trees while I stand about 6ft away to view, it's very difficult doing that when you're Christmas tree shopping on your own, I've done it and it's tricky.  Doing it on your own means, plucking, propping up and stepping away, trying to get a good look before it topples over, very tricky indeed.

I'm early this year.  Usually, I'm choosing my tree a week before Christmas, but it's the 8th, so it's probably prime choosing-a-tree time.  This is verified with the abundance of couples choosing trees round me.  Mr Gleave is pulled away for other duties and so a helper is enlisted to help me choose.  After about five minutes, I dismiss the helper, I felt like I was wasting her time and, I felt under pressure to choose a tree but as the helper said... it has to be the right tree for you.

Anyway, after about 20 minutes, I found, "the one."  I have paid and I'm now ramming it into my car when Mr Garden Centre arrives to tell me that I'm putting it in the wrong way, who knew?  We put the tree into reverse and then re-load... the right way. 

I arrive home, unload the shopping, struggle with tree, put the car into the garage, pull on the garage door to close and I hear a twang, a ping and then the lurching metal sound of the garage door, half up, half down, heading towards me and pivoting at an angle.

There isn't a sole about.   The door is too far down to get the car out, I can neither push it up nor bring it down and I'm worried that it will totally leave what's left of it's holdings and will hit the car or me or anyone I can find to help me... of which there is no-one, so far.

Next door but one in one direction are out, I don't know them that well but neighbours help each other don't they?  And I do say 'Hi!' whenever I see them.  Next door but one the other way, is Fay, she's about 5ft tall and 7 stone, so between us, not a whole amout of height or muscle going on, which is what is needed at this present moment in time.  Good enough, Fay comes out to prop up a corner while I get the car out.  We both wrestle with the door for about 10 minutes, but it's useless, it's heavy, off it's runners and is barely hanging on.

Brother-in-law and nephew are both in work, there is literally no one else I can call, I am totally stuck and totally alone.  I think about having a wobble for a moment when it dawns on me how alone I am but then I decide to save it for later.  At that moment, my garage was open to the world and to anyone who wanted to take anything, I was faced with having to leave the car out overnight... may not have a car by tomorrow.  So I fire up the laptop and Google; 'garage door repairs north west.'  Two companies pop up, the first one doesn't do anything for me so I phone the second.  I've phoned a land line but obviously get through to a mobile.  I begin to speak then get cut off.  I call again and get voice mail.  'Leave your name and number and I'll phone you right back.'  I do, and Pete does.  It'll cost me £90, he can be with me in under two hours and if he can't fix it, there is no charge.  Two hours later and the door is as good as new.  Better than new, I feel like Wonder Woman because it only needs the force of one finger for it to glide open or closed.

I'm traumatised.  I know that it sounds ridiculous but whenever anything 'big' happens or breaks, my first concern is how much is it going to cost and how will I be able to afford it?  It's stupid but it's really stressful. 

The day continues in the same vein and I blow Christmas tree lights, knock over a framed print from New York, the glass doesn't smash but the frame breaks, been a pretty expensive day.  JR phones me because I email every weekend, didn't mail last weekend because I was so poorly, so far this weekend, I haven't had a chance to mail but she's leaving in the morning so phones me to make sure I'm okay.  By the time I've told the tale, I'm blubbing slightly, but JR isn't a blubby person, so I quickly pull myself together, I'll be fine tomorrow, just slightly traumatised by the day.  'Lemony Snicket, a Series of Unfortunate Events' springs to mind.  Things come in 'threes' but I'm now, well, I'm way past three.

Claridges

No, sadly, I have not been to stay at the iconic London Hotel, established in 1854 and loved by Royalty, although, at least one nights stay is now on my bucket list.  There is a wonderful new BBC television series which takes us behind the doors of Claridges for the first time in it's long history. 

I adore, in no particular order; tradition, history, British-ness, (I know that's made up,) great customer service, strict attention to detail and well, the fact that people care what you think.

I have a keen eye for detail, although I have never once received a thank you for completing my hotel comment cards, (they are mostly positive, but I point out the tiny things, only a guest would notice like a sticky tap or a slightly rusty shower rail.)  I love tradition, I just love history, this may be due to the fact that most of my history is, well... old, my grandparents were born in 1884, mind blowing, isn't it?  So you see, I have a very soft spot for the 'old,' one that will never be erased, plus, I get excited when something was invented or arrived prior to my Grandparents, then I know it's really old and well worth getting to know, case in point... Claridges.

The documentary was so interesting.  The General Manager is a lovely man, who happens to be German.  This is slightly jarring at the beginning of the documentary, I didn't know if he was German or Austrian or something else, there was just a mere hint of an accent, but he wasn't British and Claridge's is, well, so British.  But then you listen to him, hear his discreet manor, his love for Claridges, witness his attention to detail and get to know him.  He is brilliant, discreet, has a charming personality, has a keen eye for detail and aesthetics, he is the perfect man at the helm, and I'm actually quite proud that he is in charge of this precious cargo.  He is a caretaker, there have been many General Managers before him and hopefully, there will be many after, but only after a very long and highly successful stint for this particular General Manager.

All of the staff featured, are exceptional and if I were a General Manager, I would be very proud to have them as part of my team, and representing me but more importantly, representing Claridges.

At the heart of the opening story, was an American couple, the Melchor's, a truly charming couple, totally captivating, you could easily imagine spending hours chatting with them and never once having your attention flit elsewhere.  Now in their late eighties, they have been visiting Claridges for over 40 years.  The couple were lovely, the attention, respect and love shown towards them was extraordinary, it was a wonderful thing to be captured on film, forever.

All Kinds of Cold

It's Thursday and it's cold, it's zero degrees and I have one, a cold, the type were if someone put their hand over your mouth, you would suffocate.  On top of that, my bones are cold, despite the layers, and the heating, lots of heating.  I hate having a cold. 

Friday and I sneeze my way through the day, I have never sneezed so much in my life.  I'm not exaggerating when I say I sneeze twice, every five minutes, throughout the day, it's exhausting and most certainly annoying.

Saturday, I feel terrible, I veto breaking my personal best by almost 3 weeks and decide not to get my Christmas tree, I feel terrible and simply don't have the energy to lug a tree home, or have the heart to decorate it.

Sunday, I feel better but exhausted, arms and legs weigh twice as much as reality.  I get up, head out to Starbucks, have a quiet, uninterrupted coffee, then head home, still without tree, I don't feel that much better.

The temperatures continue to plummet, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, we begin the day at zero, or slightly below, Thursday, my garage lock is frozen for a few sticky moments, Friday is slightly milder, thank goodness.

Cold continues to dwindle, but it takes days, a week in fact.

Airport

Saturday continued and JR and I flee the V&A, jump a cab and make our way to theatre land's Drury Lane and 'War Horse.'  Since JR told me she had tickets for us, I have avoided, on purpose, the story, yes, I know it's a famous book and film but I have avoided, I didn't want to spoil the theatrical experience when I was 'this' close.  I didn't know any of the actors but they were all brilliant.  The set was amazing, the depiction, so poetic and fitting, elegantly and respectfully portrayed.  I kept thinking of my Grandad who was in France in WWI, at the same time as the setting of the play, you can't help but imagine.  I had been warned to have tissues at the ready but apart from one scene, were I almost wobbled, I was good.  A brilliant performance, I really need to see the film now or read the book.

H&M had to flee from the theatre as soon as possible to get home for an evening out, JR and I wandered leisurely around a bustling Covent Garden in the rain then headed for 'Byrons' on Wellington Street for a burger to die for.  I am very picky with my burgers, this was perfection.

Sunday was a leisurely walk, a swift one I should say before the weather changed, followed by a coffee, followed by lunch at the Churchillian pub with H&M, it was lovely, after being cold for hours, I sat next to a roaring log fire, it was gorgeous.  Great friends, great meal, great pub.

M and JR deposited me at the airport, H stays at home to hopefully have a snooze after a busy few days.  I'm in the airport, checked in and I'm now sitting at the bar, I've never sat at the bar here before but my usual table is taken and I don't like anywhere else that I can see.  At the bar, I sit on one stool, have my bag on the stool next to me and my carry on parked on the opposite side, next to the next stool.  A man is immediately behind me playing on the, I don't know what it's called, some kind of game which flashes lights and makes noises?  He is there when I park myself and he is still there when I leave, over an hour later.

So I've just ordered my second Pinot Grigio and soda after my flight was delayed, the Asian waitress brings over my drink and I pay her for the drink, plus £1 tip.  Her huge smile is instantly lit, you would think I'd tipped £100, not £1, 'I'll put the lottery on!'  I think I just made her day.  So I'm sitting at the bar, not too uncomfortably, flipping through my US Elle magazine with SJP on the cover, when a rugged, handsome and extremely well built man waiting for his flight to his next job, (I got that from the phone call, I wasn't listening in exactly but couldn't help overhearing.)  I offer him the stool with my bag on for him to use for his stuff, I decided I was being greedy commandeering three bar stools at the same time. 

Handsome man is some kind of carpenter, joiner, builder, from what I can gather, after lengthy phone call, he gets out his iPad, I continue flipping through Elle, call me old fashioned but I love print, I love the sound of pages flipping, the smell of ink, the irony is not wasted on me as I type.

Handsome man and I are now sharing a bar stool, lady from airport approaches both of us and asks us to complete a survey as, my, our flight is delayed.  'Mind completing a survey, sir?  Madam?'  I quickly decide this is a rouse, surveys are quickly handed out to delayed passengers to ask questions about their delay, when in actual fact, the time it takes to complete said survey actually fills some of the time you're delayed... clever huh? 

We're delayed about an hour but flight is eventually called and we take a bus to a runway.  Last to board the bus is a woman with a tiny baby in a buggy.  It's standing room only,  I have my arm looped around a pole to steady myself, woman locks on the brakes and holds on to a pole herself.  A couple of minutes later and we leave the bus and step onto a windy and rainy runway.  I've asked woman if she needs a hand with one of the two enormous baby bags she is toting but she says she is okay and instantly a female airline person arrives to assist.

Everyone slowly makes their way to the steps of the plane in a pretty orderly fashion, I'm next to board when airline person asks me if I can wait until she carries baby on board and then gets back off.  I don't mind at all and so a few minutes later, after standing in gale force winds and rain, I board. I'm in my 3C when 3D approaches and I get up to let him in.  I accidental brush my arm against 3D's arm, 'sorry,' 'no worries' says 3D.  Why is he pretending to be a lovely Australian? He's not Australian and only Australian's are allowed to use 'no worries.'  Pretend Aussie gets out his iPad, does everyone in the world have an iPad?  He's looking at manuals for light aircraft, airport performance and accident ratio.  Is he kidding me?  Why doesn't he just watch 'Final Destination' and be done with it?

V&A Goes to Hollywood

JR and I leave base camp at 9am, we're driving to Ruislip Gardens, parking up and getting the train/tube in to Central London to attend V&A exhibition, I am so excited.  Pretty smooth sailing until we hit were an accident which had occurred then of course, traffic was slow moving, but only for around 10 minutes so everything was fine.  We park up and head into the railway station then proceed to freeze on the platform for a few minutes with me hopping up and down to keep warm then the train arrives, we're going to go over ground and then underground, so exciting.

JR and I disembark after about 30 minutes, I think at Holland Park, then we make our way to the next line, only the next line is closed.  The tube is closed and it tells us to make our way to the bus stop and to allow more time for journey... bit late now, or we would have.  We leave the underground for daylight and JR decides after being rained on for all of 2 minutes, to hail a cab, I am 100% behind this decision, I have no desire to get soaked then spend the rest of the day, damp and cold.

We hop into a trusty London cab and buckle up, it isn't a long journey... but would have been on the bus, soaked otherwise.  After 5-10 minutes in slow moving traffic, we alight at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum.  There is a very special Hollywood Costume exhibition going on which I am very excited to see, I told JR about it months ago, not thinking I'd be around to see it, but here I am, and she got us tickets to view, very important to book in advance.

I was blown away, I could have stayed there all day, I'm going to list some actors/actresses, films that I can remember and maybe a comment.  Please bear in mind that it took almost 2 hours to make it around the exhibition, the last part and the best was sadly rushed and I did not take any notes, so, I'm relying on my distinctly faulty memory.  That said, this is what I remember...  

Norma Shearer           'Marie Antoinette'
Marlene Dietrich        (tiny and short)
Meryl Streep               many costumes including 'French Lieutenants Woman', 'Mama Mia,'  'Lemony Snicket,' seems like a tall lady, imdb quotes 5ft 6", looks taller
Nicole Kidman            Petite       'Moulin Rouge'
Vivien Leigh               'Gone with the Wind,' tiny waist, taller than expected though
Bette Davis                  tiny
Glenda Jackson
Vanessa Redgrave       tall
Daniel Day Lewis        'Gangs of New York,' slim
Johnny Depp                'Sweeney Todd,' slim
Helena Bonham Carter  'A Room with a View,' (this was a dream come true, from one of my favourite films, the white dress 'Lucy Honeychurch' wore, the one in which she was kissed in the field by her love, very emotive, think dramatic score coming to crescendo.)
Marilyn Monroe           'The Seven Year Itch', iconic, white pleated halterneck by William Travillia
Natalie Portman            'The Black Swan,' tiny, childlike
Edward Norton              'Fight Club'
Robert De Niro              multiple costumes, including 'Casino'
Brad Pitt                        'Oceans Eleven' / 'Fight Club'
Elliot Gould                   'Oceans Eleven'
Dame Judi Dench          'Shakespeare in Love'
Gwyneth Paltrow           'Shakespeare in Love'
Kirsten Dunst                 'Marie Antoinette'
John Wayne                   huge, broad chest
Charlton Heston             tall and broad
Raul Julia                       'Adams Family'
Christopher Reeve          'Superman'
George Clooney              'Oceans Eleven'
Charlie Chaplin              'The Artist,'  incredible to see
Jake Gyllenhaal               'Brokeback Mountain'
Heath Ledger                   'Brokeback Mountain'
Angelica Houston            'Adams Family'
Glenn Close                     '101 Dalmations'
Hedy Lamarr
Beyonce                          'Dreamgirls'
Kate Winslet                   'Titanic,'  the dress and hat Kate wore as she arrived to board the Titanic, slim and tall, estimated size, UK 12
Leonardo Di Caprio        'Titanic'
Christian Bale                  'Batman'
Sharon Stone                    'Basic Instinct'
Reece Witherspoon          'Legally Blond 2'
Judy Garland                    'The Wizard of Oz,'  the blue and white gingham, tiny
Warren Beaty                   'Dick Tracy'
Harrison Ford                   'Indiana Jones'
Kate Hudson                     'How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,' Canary Yellow evening gown also on display a Harry Winston diamond cluster necklace with yellow sapphire drop, exquisitly displayed in it's own beautifully lit, glass box.  Estimated dress size, UK 6-8
Bruce Willis                     'Die Hard,' the vest and trousers  combo
Tippi Hedron                    'The Birds,' two piece skirt suit
Kim Novak                        'Vertigo,' two piece suit by Edith Head
Audrey Hepburn               'Breakfast at Tiffanys,' black sleeveless evening dress, just tiny, estimated dress size, UK 4
Johnny Depp                    'Pirates of the Caribbean'
Keanu Reeves                   'The Matrix'
Renee Zelwegger              'Chicago,' estimated dress size, UK 6-8
Dame Helen Mirren          'The Queen'

I  adored every second, even chatting to one of the security guards over the importance of back stretches.  The genius aspect was, before every costume was a screen showing the very same costume in the original film.  It was an amazing exhibition and a day I'll always remember.  Just magical.