I was up early, getting Sassy ready for school - Hooray! Packing a lunch for the Husband to take to work - Hooray! and I went to have coffee with my pal - Hooray!! I have resumed normal function - Whew!
It was nice to talk to her after the two week break. She's got a renewed interest in going to the gym again. One Sunday over the break her husband was in the gym while I was. We didn't speak or anything - he's not a talker, more of a grunt and nod type but the most dedicated dad and father ever; a real nice guy...who grunts. He told her I'd been there. She said she saw me walking by her house up to the gym "All the time!" so I'm guessing she's got that voice in her head that's saying "If you'd gone with Lyvvie like you said you would, you'd be thinner too." evil voices they are (especially my smug interpretations). So she says she'll be going up tomorrow. We'll see. No stress, no pressure; it's entirely her decision.
I did get some nice gossip though. Are you interested in some small town gossip? Aw go on, indulge in this story...
About a year ago I bumped into one of the neighborhood busybodies at the shops. She's the sort who's always having candle parties, tupperware parties, and the like. Loves to have wine and giggling women in her den. We had a chat for a while talked about our kids – she's the type of mother who only has little angels and swaps them around schools when the teachers disagree, when another of my friends, Ellie happened by on her way to breakfast in the pub. Ellie is a very up front, 50-something lesbian who is great fun to be around. As soon as Party Girl(PG) was introduced and Ellie let slip (always in the first five minutes of a conversation) she was a lesbian, PG was curious. Please do say the word curious in that “wink wink, nudge nudge,” way with a sly smile.
PG said things like "I'd be interested in women, I'm tired of having my big sweaty husband on top of me. He's so clumsy, it's just gross." and was quite resentful towards him and a bit nasty. Well, I was gob-smacked, Ellie was uncomfortable but politely supportive; I think she really wanted her cigarette and coffee and an "intervention" was the last thing on her mind, and it was left at that – a short, awkward conversation on a spring morning and then we went our separate ways.
Now I haven't seen PG since that day, and I was thinking about her this morning. When I was in the cafe having coffee with my pal, the "Big sweaty husband" walked in with his four year old and had some breakfast. I mentioned to my friend, I'd been thinking of PG just that morning, but haven't seen her around for ages; just the husband and the kids. My pal smiled wickedly "You don't know?" (don't you love those words!?) I shook my head, "She left him about six months ago, left the kids too and moved in with some woman in Glasgow. She's turned." she tells me with a wink. I, of course, tell her about the weird conversation with Ellie last year. (just so ya know, Ellie is in a LT relationship, so it wasn't she who PG ran away with)
It was a good day for gossip, but what a sad story for the man and his kids. He's actually a very nice man, who's about 6 foot 6, and he's a soft spoken sort. I feel bad for the kids who've been abandoned by their mom - but this is life isn't it. This is the kind of shit that happens to people. the scenarios of fiction are never far from the truth, are they?
Anyways, I've been a bit binging so far today. I had a bowl of grape-nuts with raisins and then had a breakfast roll at the cafe. I'm in that nibbling mood. It's because I'm annoyed. We had to buy a new laundry line (whirly-jig) because our one was broken in a wind storm last week - although weakened by Sassy last year while playing Tarzan. I was going to use the same hole as the old one, but Sassy went and filled it in with stones, and after much digging through the muddy depths with a spoon to fish out the stones, it was useless. I began to dig a new hole, with nothing but a hand spade and it took me an hour. Got the spike in, filled in the hole set up the whole thing and it was a piece of shit. Just junk. It's...awful. I took the whole contraption down again and went in for a cup of tea and to clean the baby, whose face was covered in dirt and spit. We'll return it (the whirly-jig, not the baby) and have to spend £40 on the ninja-hot big whirly-jig instead.
I may go to the gym tonight after the kids are in bed. That's not obsessive is it?