Fashion in London
Nass and I spent a fantastic day in London yesterday.
We went to PURE the London womens fashion show at Olympia.
It's not that we are changing direction, but we are looking at a sideline.
Not here in Arundel.
We are looking further afield.
Cant say more than that at present.
Suffice it to say we had a great day.
I loved those trousers this girl was wearing.
Funny, since losing my 28 lbs in weight,
I'm loving clothes I haven't worn for a long time.
I would have worn trousers like these to death
but when I had put on weight they just made me look even bigger.
Even Nass, my husband flinched.
Nass has gone down to Tetbury today.
He and Russ are moving a friend of ours who
deals in the most beautiful French decorative antiques,
to this part of the country.
If you love antiques, particularly if you are trade, you will adore this beautiful English town.
It's a while since I've been there.
But trust me, it's like being in Antiques Heaven.
When I know where and more details of our friends venue in Arundel area, I'll post it.
Trust me, it'll be worth waiting for.
Our creative writing group has been going over 2 years now.
Still enjoying it, but alas with the business
I don't get so much time as I would like to both read books and write myself.
I'm still very much a novice.
Here's my latest offering.
and it's very much based on a local well known character,
Eric was a nice enough bloke, a natural comic and raconteur,
with not an ounce of malice.
What he lacked in social finesse he made up for in charm and kindness.
A bit thoughtless at times, considered by his friends
to be the king of the faux pas.
Not so much accident prone, more incident prone.
Most days, he left a trail of bemused,
sometimes smiling, occasionally enraged, people in his wake.
Eric had a few personal problems.
One of which was dyslexia.
I need to tell you this as it affected many things Eric did.
He rarely read the full instructions on packets or labels,
only the words that jumped out at him.
Issues regularly arose from this.
Eric hated his teeth. Not as white as he would like.
One day he found what he considered to
be the superlative teeth brightening pack at his nearby Boots.
He followed the instructions.
Or as much of the instructions he had the patience to read.
The tablets were in his mouth.
Drifting off to sleep he was convinced
he’d wake at seven with bright shiny molars.
The foaming felt strange, so he got up and returned to the bathroom to read further.
The word “WATER” jumped out from the instructions.
Ok. Take the tablet out of his mouth and put it in water.
Then presumably gargle with it.
Foam oozed down his chin and his gums burnt.
Afterwards he concentrated really hard and read the entire label.
“Steradent for Dentures”.
Eric had painful blisters in his mouth for weeks.
He knew he had to give up smoking and
successfully used e cigarettes to help.
This was going well, until the ear problem.
Eric had a hearing issue.
He went to his GP who said he must have his ears syringed.
Firstly, though, he needed put oil in his ears for four days.
After the first day his ears burnt.
They hurt so much it gave Eric a violent headache.
Day two he thought his head would explode.
Looking at the tube he had been pushing into his ears, he realised with horror.
“Oh my God, it’s the bleedin’ nicotine tube for the e fags.”
The same size phial, same colour.
An easy mistake to make.
Socially, things either just happened by themselves
or Eric inadvertently created situations.
He did possess an inbuilt siren that warned him, "enough is enough," though you would never know it. The alarm occasionally halted major disaster in the nick of time. But not always.
The evening of the Indian Restaurant,
the warning bell was impaired by ten pints of beer.
Often the case on a Friday night.
How Eric came to be sitting in the restaurant
with a red traffic cone on his head in the first place
was as baffling to him as to the other diners.
After a night out with the boys it was inevitable something would go awry.
Not content with making a scene by being there with the aforementioned unconventional head gear wobbling precariously on his head he went one step further.
Instead of leaving quietly when the Indian waiter politely requested it.
He just had to have the final word.
Admittedly, he did have an olive skin from Italian ancestry way back,
but by no stretch of the imagination was he black.
As he stood on his chair, with the traffic
cone wobbling even more frantically he gave his slurred farewell speech
"You see people, they are trying to get rid of me because I'm black."
With that he tumbled to the floor,
and whilst dazed and off guard the waiter briskly
and unceremoniously grabbed his collar.
Eric felt the boot on his backside seconds
before he crashed onto the pavement outside.
The ban lasted five years.
Until he broke his leg playing cricket.
The owner and waiters, all avid cricketers,
took a sympathy vote and allowed him back.
On the condition that the current girlfriend accompanied him,
and that she promised to keep Eric under control.
Small and stocky the 30 year old East End boy had a
manner and easy charm reminiscent of a young Bob Hoskins.
Not what you'd call handsome he walked with a comical rolling gait.
His charisma rather than his looks,
afforded him an extremely long list of phone numbers
in his metaphorical little black book.
Eric loved the attention of women
and responded to the merest interested glance with,
"'Ello Darling, don't I know you? "
Although his chat up lines were often banal and lacking in sophistication he usually succeeded in captivating attention due to his pure audacity.
"’Ere, I'm buying a bra for me girlfriend,
and I'm not sure what size I should get."
"Is she the same size as me?"
"I'm not sure, I think so. ....Errr ......is there a way I can I tell? "
"Would you like to check ?"
"Well.......if you're absolutely sure."
His friends propping up the pub bar,
stared in amazement as Eric was invited to confirm measurements.
One evening though, he sat quietly in the secluded part of the bar.
"Hi Eric , you look a bit down. You ok?"
"Oh! Hi Lynn. I’ve had a rough day,
and for once it really wasn’t my fault."
Lynn, the barmaid had always been attracted to Eric,
and she often wondered if the feeling was mutual.
However she was unsure she’d be able to deal
with his extrovert behaviour, should they date.
It was a quiet evening in the small village local,
and as the bar was empty, she sat at Eric’s table.
"So...what's up then?"
"Did I tell you I had a new job? With that pest control bloke just outside Norwich? "
"No, you never said."
The month before Eric had started work
with a small company dealing with eliminating moles, rabbits and wasps nests, from the homes of the local gentry.
That afternoon, his boss,
Mark, a chunky middle aged man had driven them into Norwich
as he had a few errands.
Unfit and with a dislike of walking,
Mark parked near the pedestrian precinct on double yellow lines.
"If a traffic warden comes, jump into the driving seat and take the van around the block a couple of times."
Eric sat rolling tobacco and gazing out down the road.
When he noticed a traffic warden walk alongside,
he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
It surprised Eric to see the warden go by.
Relaxing now, he lay back and with the afternoon sun
beating through the windows his eyelids grew heavy.
As he drifted off, the sound of sirens woke him.
Suddenly the van rocked with a violent thumping.
"Get out of the vehicle and put your hands in the air."
The voice was gruff and aggressive.
Eric blinked. He thought he must be dreaming.
The door wrenched open and a gun was thrust in his face.
"No, Eric, this ain't no dream mate."he thought.
"I SAID GET OUT OF THE CAR, AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP."
As he climbed out he saw three squad cars and
with a jolt Eric realised he was surrounded by ten or twelve armed policeman.
"Oh yeah..where's the camera then?" Eric laughed,
convinced he must be on a reality TV programme.
What other reason could there be?
This incensed the officer even further and
he was grabbed from behind and flung face
down on the side of the car, his arms and legs forced apart.
Everyone was shouting around him.
He looked up to see crowds of spectators forming along the high street.
"What guns have you got ?" Barked the sergeant.
Eric realised he was in trouble when he remembered
there was a shotgun lying on the back seat.
"Just the one on the seat."
An officer was searching the boot.
"What about this?" He held up a small hand gun.
"I work for Norwich Pests. We do pest control."
" Me boss and I."
"So where is he?"
"He's gone ........to the bank......" Eric's voice tailed off.
"This ain’t looking good." he thought.
The police officers gave each other a knowing look.
"No, no really. He's gone to pay cheques in."
Eric was panic stricken and his eyes searched the
crowd over the roof of the car.
He was desperate to see Mark returning
and felt relief when he saw his boss's ruddy smiling, face appear.
By the time Eric finished telling Lynn the stories, tears of laughter were streaming down her face.
"I'm sorry Eric." She mopped her eyes with a serviette from the table.
"So how did it finish?"
"Once Mark had shown his credentials we were free to go.
I know I like to be the centre of attention, Lynn,
but that's not exactly what I had in mind."
By then Eric had perked up, able to see the funny side.
"Fancy going out to eat when you finish your shift?"
They began dating, and although Lynn adored him,
she wasn't convinced she was doing the right thing.
Eric still liked to be at the hub of every party and she was shy and reserved.
"I don't always want to be thrown
into the limelight by his antics."
She told a friend who worked at the bar with her.
"What sort of thing?"
"Well, the other evening we were
going to try the new pub in town,
and I was meeting him there.
I walked in sober and there they all were."
"Every single punter.... standing up on tables singing.
Led by yours truly of course, giving a rousing,
alcoholic rendition of “Lets all go up to sunshine mountain."
"They all looked at me as I walked in.
Eric shouted for me to join them on the tables. I just went puce."
"Actually Lynn, I didn't like to tell you before,
but the staff were running a book on you two.
They've all put bets on."
"No....what was that all about?"
"How long you'd be together.
Gave you six months max."
"Oh well, they are only saying
what I had been thinking."
The relationship blossomed in spite of her reservations.
Eric was gradually changing.
The more she ignored his attention seeking
behaviour the more he calmed down and matured.
Two years later though they
were at a New Years Eve party
At midnight Eric waved his arms around manically.
Everyone in the room moved back.
"Schtand back. Schtand back.
Because I want to ask that woman over there to marry me."
With that he went on one knee and proposed.
"Get up Eric and don't be so ridiculous."
The following summer, they were attending
a friend’s restaurant opening. During the evening the maitre d'
flamboyantly began pouring champagne into the five feet high glasses pyramid.
The pyramid had taken some time to
construct and was to be the high spot of the evening.
At that exact moment fuelled by champagne,
Eric dropped on one knee and proposed.
"No, no Eric, not now." Lynn sighed.
"Why not ?"
"When you do it and it without
being the centre of attention, then I'll listen. "
Christmas Eve they spent the evening with friends.
Returning home at midnight they sat by the fire with a glass of champagne.
Raising her glass Lynn smiled, “Merry Christmas Eric.”
“Merry Christmas Lynn. Let’s open a gift each, shall we?”
Scrabbling underneath the tree, he pulled out a small box.
Quietly, he went on one knee and for
the third and as it turns out the final time,
he repeated his question.
Any similarity to persons living is completely incidental..
Watched the film Noah the other night.
Took a bit of getting into but enjoyed it.
Been working on a Noah chest of drawers.
Victorian Mahogany painted and decorated with two by two animals.
It's on our Hoarde site
have a great day.
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