Roses and rants...

Helloooooooooo there!
Blimey, feels like ages since I "blogged" (hate that word - for some reason it reminds me of toilets - urgh). Been up to my neck in seven sorts of madness over the last few days and this is the first chance I've really had to come on and let you all know what's been happening.

Well, Thursday was another boxing day. TB had me jabbing and punching and hooking like some kind of demented streetfighter and I'm now confident that should I meet supertwat in a dark alley then he'd better watch his step as this little lady now has a mean right hook. I cooked TB dinner and we just collapsed watching the Olympics on the sofa. I fell fast asleep and he just covered me up with a blanket and let himself out.

Friday I had the shock of my life in two respects. They were both equally heart stopping incidents but for totally different reasons. I was busy in the garden in the morning. I had decided that my garden resembled something more like "Day of the Triffids" rather than the hanging gardens of Babylon so I braved the great outdoors and set about trying to be all green fingered. Well, I've never squealed so much in 15 minutes as I did in that garden. Not only did I keep treading on snails by accident but I also accidentally kebabed a slug on my finger and a giant toad jumped up from behind my dahlias when I was weeding and almost hit me in the face. Now, I know that princesses are meant to kiss a lot of frogs before they find their prince but I'm not sure if they're actually meant to be wearing a slug on their hand, snail soled shoes and squealing at amorous toads who leap into their kisser. It was highly undignified and I was just trying to avoid the giant amphibian when a head popped round my gate. It was a delivery man holding the biggest bouquet of flowers I've ever seen. He asked if I was the name on the card and I said I was and he handed me the car-sized bunch.

There were 3 dozen long stemmed pink roses and loads of other beautiful blooms. I struggled into the house with the world's biggest flower arrangement and tore the card open.
They were from trainer boy and simply said - "To the most beautiful girl in the world with all my love". I burst into tears and sat down rather abruptly on the kitchen chair in tears. It was then that I found out it is not good to wipe your eyes and nose with half a slug stuck to your finger.

I phoned TB straight away to say thank you and asked him what had brought on this gesture. He said that he was fed up of ST being horrible to me and wanted me to feel good about myself again. He said he had listened to me talk passionately about the tradition in Estonia of giving long stemmed roses to friends whenever you see them and that's why he'd picked such long stemmed flowers for my bouquet. I was so shocked at the size of it that I measured it whilst he was on the phone. It was 3 feet high and 3 and a half feet wide! I was totally and utterly gobsmacked at him - he really is a cutie.

I phoned my mum to come and have a look at the flowers and she popped round and couldn't believe how massive they were - we had a couple of cups of tea and slagged off ST a bit more. I tell you, if this pastime was part of the current Olympics, my mum would undoubtedly be a gold medallist. At the moment she is rather fixated on the injustice of supertwat and meat. Now, I might need to explain this one. My mum is the world's best cook of Sunday lunch. Her lunches are legenday and her gravy is like manna from heaven. Everyone I know who has ever had Sunday lunch at my mum's house is always angling for an invite and I have seen grown men weep over who gets the last Yorkshire pudding. Anyway, whenver ST used to come round for Sunday lunch, my mum always gave him the best bits of the meat. He used to wolf it down like he hadn't eaten for a week and make a real pig of himself. She is therefore currently obsessed by his consumption of the best cuts. Her mantra is "all that bloody meat; all that bloody meat; all that bloody meat I gave him and he just buggers off". Now I'm not sure if I should be pleased that my mum is so anti-supertwat or slightly perturbed that she seems more anxious about his consumption of beef rather than my broken marriage; I have tried asking mum about this but she simply answered, "and he always used to eat four chops". I have therefore come to the conclusion that some things are not worth pursuing.

I spent Friday afternoon baking again - this time biscuits and blueberry muffins. I was just up to my eyebrows in flour and eggs (and yes, I had washed the slug off by this point) when my phone rang. Now, it was only bloody supertwat wasn't it!!!!!!

After I had had a minor coronary, I picked up the phone and had one of the most random conversations I have ever had. Here's just a few highlights.

1. He says he "feels sad all of the time". (In asnwer to my question, "Are you happy or relieved? How exactly do you feel? Are you glad to be free?)
2. He regrets a lot of things (In answer to my question, "Do you regret leaving me?")
3. He's not happy.
4. He still wants me to pay for the divorce
5. It kills him to think of me lonely and on my own
6. He wants the divorce thing "all wrapped up"
7. He wants me to think of the three counts of his unreasonable behaviour and e-mail to him. (I was tempted to say "Do you mean three sides of A4 or just 3 separate reasons?" but I didn't.
8. He called my uncle a liar for saying that he had seen him in a bar in town.
9. He says he hasn't been out anywhere when there are pictures of him on facebook. (he thinks because I'm not on it, I won't know this!)
10. He doesn't want to upset me.

Now, I don't know about you but those ten things don't seem to me to hang together very well? It was like talking to a complete fruit loop. He just kept getting angry, then upset, then calm, then super business like, then back to lying angry and defensive again. It made me realise that he really is a hopeless case and a completely selfish person. I asked him to think of the 3 reasons himself and do a little soul searching but he's determined that I should think of them. Right then, hand me a biro and a ream of paper; I may be here some time!!!

I went out with a couple of girlfriends on Friday night just for a couple of drinks. I was driving so I was just drinking tea (how very "Miss Marple!)
We sat there and were trying to work out who had had the shittest love life. I said that two failed marriages was pretty good going by 33 on my part. My mate said that she was worst because she'd been dumped 8 times in 3 years. My other mate said that her boyfriend of 12 years refusing to move in with her and then dumping her for someone else was pretty bad. We decided that we would all end up in the rest home for elderly ladies in beds next to each other slagging off people on Jeremy Kyle and eating super noodles. My mate also recounted how she'd spent her day pouring boiling water into her bin to kill some maggots in there and then putting cat litter into a plastic bag in case she needed an emergency night time wee on a camping trip she was about to go on. I said I was more glam because I had wiped half a slug up my nose earlier that day and my mate said she had had to wash poo off her cat's bum because its had an accident and can't clean itself. It was at this moment that we realised why we were probably all single.

Saturday was another baking day - today, carrot cake! Made it for TB as it's his favourite. He came round in the evening and we went for a meal. We ended up sitting at the table next to another diner who had a perfect adlof hitler moustache. It was amazing. So neatly clipped, jet black and really thick and luxurious. The thing that made TB almost choke on his steak was that it was on a woman! Luckily I had my back to her but TB was mesmerised by why a lady wodul so obviously cultivate such a well maintained example of facial hair. It was truly stunning. a rare and unusual example of complete countryside randomness. We then had to go and cat sit for my parents'. They are looking after my brother's cat whilst he's on holiday but they went away for the night to my uncles and there was a firework's display on in the village so I had to look after the cat. TB came in with me and we knocked a hole in a bottle of vodka. He had me in hysterics all evening, especially when he realised my parents' porch isn't watertight and his shoes were completely full up after a rather sharp and unexpected downpour. We watched the fireworks from my old bedroom window and then rather unusually played "connect 4". Now, who says romance is dead?

Yesterday was a pretty quiet one. I had an evil headache after the vodka and spent most of the day on the sofa watching the Olympics. TB came round at teatime though and we went for a long walk and then a boxing session. He made me box whilst running on my mini trampoline and I am therefore accepting no responsibility for the large red mark on his head where I misjudged my footing and walloped him in the face. I mean, who on earth lets a hungover girl loose with a pair of boxing gloves on a bloody trampoline. I could barely focus on my own feet, let alone his head and the pads.

We then had a very sober evening watching "come dine with me" and eating my mediterranean roasted cod invention. I don't half ache today though - I feel like I've had my arms in a mangle for a week.

I'm not seeing TB again til Wednesday now though so at least my arms will be safe til then.

Anyway, best nip off now as my dad's making me some "special meat stew" and knowing the importance my parents place on meat consumption, I better get myself to the table or face the wrath of the chef.

So, bye for now. Will post again very soon

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