When Mark went out this morning I thought that I might try on my Beautiful Dress, to see how it might stand up to the rigours of Lucy’s end of term ball.
It is a rather splendid dress, made of cream silk, low cut and heavy. It is not floor length, but it covers my knees decently, and is fluffed out over a discreet layer of stiffened net. I can’t remember what event I bought it for originally, but I have only worn it twice, both times before Oliver was born.
That is rather a long time ago. He will be fourteen this year.
When I tried it on this morning in the bathroom, I discovered to my horror that it no longer fitted.
Imagine my distress.
When I say that it no longer fitted, I don’t mean that I couldn’t get into it. That would have been an easy solution. I would have wrapped it up and sent it to Oxfam. Then I could simply have explained to Mark the need to unearth his credit card in order to purchase something else.
It was worse than that.
In fact it fitted beautifully, hugging every rotund curve like a skin from which a boa constrictor is just about to burst free.
I could see every contour of my knickers.
It was a profoundly distressing moment.
The thing is, if I diet a bit, do some exercise and just manage my life a bit better over the next few weeks, it will be perfect.
I have never wanted a chocolate biscuit with greater intensity.
Two chocolate biscuits, a banana and a cup of tea later, I contemplated my immediate future with gathering gloom.
We are supposed to be going out to lunch tomorrow. I certainly can’t afford a new dress, most especially when I have a vintage silk classic hanging sleekly in my wardrobe.
It is lunch at the Wild Boar, the one with the smokehouse, the thrice-cooked chips and the charred steaks hung for 28 days and then served with smoked cheese.
Worse, I have just found a wonderful recipe online for rose and almond fudge, with butter and fresh cream.
Sometimes life is monumentally unjust.
In consequence of this, even though I had thought perhaps I might have a night off, I am on the taxi rank, earning a month’s gym membership, in instalments of £3.70 each.
Mark is not home yet. Probably I will go back home when he turns up, so that we can have an early night and be up bright and fresh for the rigours of tomorrow. As you know, these include a funeral, lunch out, learning to shoot and taking Oliver back to school.
I would like you to know that I am Feeling Glum.
I have not been to the gym today, because of not being able to afford a membership yet, but I have not exactly been idle either. I took advantage of Mark being out from under my feet to do something useful, and I have painted the ceilings in the bathroom and the hallway.
What I really want to do is paint the walls in the hallway. They are a different colour to the ceiling. The ceilings are all white, except for the kitchen which is still half purple due to a never-corrected error some time ago. The walls in the hallway are a deep orange colour, and I have stuck blue flowers on to them. I know perfectly well, from long experience, that if I paint the walls before the ceiling, that I will finish up with walls which are coloured orange with white freckles.
Hence today I wobbled about on the stool out of the office and painted the ceilings, which did need it really, because they were not white any more, but Fifty Shades Of Grey.
I did cover the carpet up, but it has had one or two misfortunes. It was originally bright green, because I think this looks lovely with the orange and blue, but now it is a bit freckly as well.
I ran out of time before I got round to repainting the walls, which was tiresome, because I will be too busy tomorrow. It will be Friday at the soonest, but I am feeling quite excited about it anyway, it is nice to have something to look forward to.
Once I have repainted the orange I am going to paint some new flowers. That is the exciting bit. I am very pleased indeed to be doing this.
I tried to take a picture of the newly-white ceiling, but it turned out to be both boring and unidentifiably peculiar.
Have a picture of the Lake District instead.
