Sunday, 1 March 2009


Enjoying being back home, and feeling very glad that my lovely Mum is on the road to recovery, even if it will take a while for her to get there.

Went into Salisbury on Saturday to run a few errands, and to pick up my engagement and wedding rings from the jewellers. They have done a brilliant job, the diamond in my engagement ring looks wonderful, all big and clean and sparkly.

After I finished being impressed, the girl in the shop got the various invoices out and started ringing it all through the till. "That will be £50 for the resizing, please," she said.

I thought about it for a moment, remembering the quote they gave me back in December for £450, which they seemed to have forgotten about. A vision of getting away with the perfect crime flashed across my mind. But, thanks to my upbringing and innate honesty, I had to say "No, that's not right. You haven't charged me for the repair work you did."

She seemed really surprised and kept thanking me for being so honest. Well really. What else could one do? I wouldn't nick £450 from someone, or shoplift something, so why would I steal it by not telling them of their mistake?

Anyway, she then took £25 off the cost of resizing my rings, as a reward. Plus I get to feel all virtuous and smug every time I look at my rings, instead of feeling ashamed and guilty. So hurrah for honesty.

Last night we went over to the pub to watch my gorgeous guitar teacher's band playing. It was fun, just the ticket after such a sad and worrying couple of weeks.

He had mentioned ages ago about me going and playing a song with them, but I have hardly picked up my guitar for a fortnight, and until Friday was really in no mood to think about playing or singing. So, I just went and watched, and chatted to a lot of our friends and neighbours who were there, and had some cider. Mmmm cider.

Today we went over to see some neighbours for coffee this morning, and I spent a happy half hour wandering round their beautiful garden, stealing ideas for my own garden. If and when we get our arses into gear and start work in it, of course. I am now fancying a box hedge, but not quite sure where I'd put one. Mr WithaY is talking about making a pond, but the water table here is so high I think we'd end up with an above-ground pool.

I am going to start getting quotes for the ground work we need to have done in the back garden though. If we know how much it will cost then we can at least plan it.

By way of getting things underway, Mr WithaY cut the front hedge and I pruned the roses. A small start but it meant we felt like we had at least made an effort.

After our monumental gardening efforts, we popped in to visit Father-in-Law WithaY, who was looking very well. Another encouraging thing on a sunny day.

This evening we had a small domestic tragedy. Whilst rummaging in the cupboard for the vinaigrette (ooh get us, eh?) Mr WithaY dislodged a brand new bottle of truffle oil, which smashed into a bazillion pieces all over the kitchen floor. We did a rapid Red Adair style clean-up, but the house still smells of posh Italian food, and the floor needs another wash, as it is rather too slippery for safety.

Other news: Tried on a hat in the outdoorsy shop in Salisbury that I wish I had bought. It was made of black fake fur, and had little tiny gorilla-stylee ears on it. Superb. And it really suited me.

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