* 11 Jan 2010 THE MAN OF MY DREAMS PHONED

11 Jan 2010.
•*”˜˜”*°•. ˜”*°•♥•°*”˜˜”*°•♥•°*”˜ .•°*”˜˜”*°•
The Great Cold Snap 2010 - Bulletin - Jan 11
subtitle: THE MAN OF MY DREAMS PHONED

UPDATE: Still in the SofaNest, no heating, no hot water, that sissy Miss Minerva Micra still sits in her parking rut, screaming and fainting, and no amount of smelling salts will get her to move. Though a friend collected me and took me to lunch yesterday, I still haven’t made it to the Gym's showers - they don't have a restuarant. (Primitive)

So still getting No1 daughter to stagger upstairs to the bathroom with 4 kettles and a giant pot of boiling water. Then various arcane activites take place in order to keep Ninja-Granny's crooks and nannies superclean.

A warm 0*C now at dawn, but 2cm snow last night - (I'm not sure how this "snow" business - meteorologicallyspeaking - happens. And what is a dew point? And how can the dew point be -1C? Surely dew is liquid? Liquid water can not happen at minus -1C. Well, it might if it's a molecule in the Large Hadron Collider - but this is outdoors in rural Oxfordshire. And do I really want to know the answer- unless you can explain it in two sentences or less?)

R.I.P. BARB BOON
Two days ago No1 daughter, Shans, made a snowman in our garden. (I sent a photo of it as a joke to my friend Elizabeth with the caption, "At last a man in my life!" and quick as a flash she replied, "He's too cold for you.".. Good one.)

Anyway, yesterday morning I looked out to check on the snowman and was appalled to see a small dead furry thing just below the table where I've been putting out trays of bird food. It was very obviously dead, a light dusting of frost over it.

Poor little weak thing, it must have been trying to climb onto the table for food and just couldn't make it. I was upset. I stood there, hot coffee and a HobNob in hand, feeling awful, and wondered what it was?

Reddish fur, so not a hedgehog, not a local grey squirrell, not a dormouse, not a rabbit, too small for a fox. Mystery.

Finally when my daughter came downstairs I told her all about this poor little furry mystery creature that had starved to death so close to a tray of life-giving food. She rushed over to the window and I was horrified to hear her laugh.

She turned to me and said, "Oh! Mom, it's that old stuffed baboon of mine. I tried to use it's fur to make eyebrows and a moustache for the snowman but it was too tough to tear up, so I chucked it to one side."

There is a foolishness that is beyond foolish when you discover that you have been all teared up over Barb Boon, a small stuffed toy.

..AND THE PHONE CALL
And now, on to the main subject ..the man in my life.

I have been waiting eagerly for a certain special man to phone. Day after day. Each time the phone has rung I have been disappointed to find it's a friend and insanely infuriated if it was one of those bl**dy insurance sales calls. (The phone does bounce!)

But yesterday the phone rang at about 8:00 p.m.(Late? Yes, but I'm certainly not playing hard to get, I'd still answer it if he phoned at 11 p.m. The crusty Super-Ninja-Granny has no pride in this instance.) and when I answered it and heard his voice, I went weak and sweaty at the knees. (Sweaty at the knees is not a good look for Ultra-Cool Super-Ninja-Grannies)

I held my breath, what would his answer be? Were we on or were we off? I held my breath and muted the TV. Silence filled the SofaNest.

And then he spoke, "I can start on you tomorrow and hopefully finish on Wednesday."

Two days? Only two days? Better two days than nothing.
"Oh! Yes, please...," I breathed throatily.

He's bald, he's about 4' 9", has bow-legs, wears thick specs and disgusting overalls - but the heating engineer is the only man of my dreams. My new boiler will be installed by Wednesday.

Have a wonderful day everyone of my Friends. Love from the Crusty, but Ultra-Cool, Super-Ninja Granny xxx

Copyright author 2010