My friend Barney says that he used to think I was the maddest person he knew. Now he thinks I am the sanest person he knows. Wow. To go from maddest to sanest is quite something. And I didn’t even change. Maybe I was the sanest all along. Or maybe the people he knew got madder. Either way, I’m chuffed.
Today I forgot about the whole damn business. I put on the new red hair thing, went to London and watched Noises Off for the second time with my dad, Alfie, Bashi, Tabby and Elliot. I only got a few looks on the tube when I apparently shouted to Tabby ‘It’s nice not to be bald for a change.’ Damn. Blew my own cover. The play reduced us all to helpless snorting, especially the backstage act in the middle. We had lunch in a tapas bar (couscous salad) and a cream tea in the Waldorf Hotel after. Must admit, had one scone with thin jam and thin cream but much anti-carcinogenic Earl Grey. They have the most fab little drip-catchers on their tea strainers. Most civilised.
It is good to be so stimulated and excited that you really forget that you have all this burden of stuff going on. Reminds me to get on and organise the fundraiser for ‘Make a Wish’. My friend Janet’s daughter Andi wants to help as she accompanied her ill cousin on the Harry Potter trip and knows first hand how incredible the whole thing is. We need a date, a projector, a screen, a bar (donations) and two sittingsworth of audience.
I am going to another fundraiser. My friend Gill has invited me to a fashion show at Manor of Groves (a posh local hotel). It’s in aid of the Epping Breast Unit’s charity called Fabulous and Beautiful which helps people through the psychological effects of mastectomy and chemo. All the models have had breast cancer. Gill is one of them. It’s the night before next chemo so I should be at a peak of health. I want to talk to all the ladies and study all the head gear. I have never been to a fashion show in my life, so am interested to see what it’s like. Do you think there will be gin?
Lots of curious peeps have asked about the mouse and the bollocks. I will just say, for the good of humankind, that Fred would probably (if he knew about all this) want to share with the world this one piece of advice: if you want to catch a rather aggressive, jumpy mouse, do not attempt it crouching down clothed only in your dressing gown. Serious knickers are required. I bet Fred still wishes he’d been wearing serious knickers.
Reminds me of something really awful that happened to Alfie when he was in Reception. He suddenly realised that he had nothing on under his trousers. This would not have been a problem but he knew it was football after school. He bravely yet oh so foolishly put up his hand and said ‘I’ve got no knickers on.’ Of course everyone in the class laughed and laughed. And laughed. Thing is though, having two older sisters, we hadn’t really thought to tell him that boys had a different word for their knickers. Blates Fred’s fault I would say.
Absence of symptoms means there is not much more to say. Although, all you non-ill peeps out there, Enjoy Your Strength. We take it so much for granted. The other day I carried a laptop the length of the corridor (admittedly quite far, our house being very long and thin) and from about halfway the laptop seemed heavier and heavier until it felt like a massive lump of concrete. I put it down on the kitchen table panting with exertion. Not normal.
Eddie and Patsy photo shoot on the way so stay tuned!