welcome to whine journal

I have this house. It's coming together. We live here, we do things, and we have a cat who visits. I buy things, and I do all the usual wife things.
We are still waiting on the internet but hey, this is England. A slightly backwards nation where the grocery stores close on Sundays at four because no one believes in God, except on Sunday afternoons. Let me slag off my adopted country. It keeps me polite the rest of the time. I smile and chat with everyone, but let me have this moment where I think, "Maybe the British put up with so much mediocrity because there is some private delight in disappointment. Budget masochism." I kid. Sort of. A tiny bit. I have spent a great deal of time chasing assorted individuals up for various tasks, and I feel like I have to MAKE people do their jobs.
I am just so damn grumpy right now. I will be all right. I am off to the doctor tomorrow to sort out the source of some of the grumpies. Talk to the stupid GP about why my hair has been falling out for months, and why I am always fucking freezing, even if I am bundled up, cuddling a hot water bottle, and sitting next to a heat source.(irritating because I don't smoke, I rarely ever have a drink, I get my five a day -mostly veg/green things, I go running a few times a week, and I live out around the fresh air. My great sin is eating too many biscuits.) I am pretty calm about this. Mostly because everything I have read about hair loss in ladies is that most of the time it can be sorted and there is some kind of thing where the body is out of whack. The biology needs a reboot.

Today we went up to Somerset to celebrate Nanny D's 85th birthday. A whole lotta people. We showed up at her place for tea and biscuits, because she is reliable for tea and biscuits. There were presents. We gave her a new dust-pan set. This isn't a glam gift, but it is what she genuinely wanted as her old set was kind of broken, and down right awful looking. (her words) We also gave her sweets. When you are 85 you don't need a lot. Presents tend to be more disposable at this stage of life. We went to lunch at this one hotel. We had had a bit of um... half-assed discussions with the management about doing something different for the children because it would have been a fucking waste of money/food to feed the girls much. One of the girls is a vegetarian, all three are the most picky eaters alive. (one has a lot of anxiety about eating in front of people.) and we said, "can we JUST do chips and ice cream for this price." And the management said, "well...erm... that isn't possible." We kept saying, "Why not." They faffed. Finally we chatted with the lady in person, and her reason? The hotel is sooooo schmancy and they serve soooooooooo many on Sundays, and they don't want to do anything off menu because la-di-da they are a fancy place. Please Madge. She said in the most delightfully patronizing tone, "of COURSE, one is welcome to book elsewhere in the area." and did that little bitch titter. I imitated that titter right back at her and then looked at her dead-eyed. Bitch.Please. Finally we said, "okay, this is what we are ordering for your bullshit price." and she accepted it.
The girls weren't impressed. (also they fucked up the kids desserts but whatever.) I found the food to be very... sit down wedding reception. the mackerel starter was good. Miss Biscuit found the sorbet to be too sweet. And she likes sweet things, and pink things. Mr. Jenner liked the duck, but I found the duck to be slightly too well done, but the gravy was all right. The vegetables were over-done. The knickerbocker glory was not a knickerbocker glory. BUT despite the food being underwhelming, and the lady a real bitch-cakes, the company was lovely. I sat next to Nanny D, and chatted about potential holidays, cool accessories, and things we like. Then later on there was a discussion at our end of the table about fracking. Most are NOT in favor for a wide variety of interesting reasons. My sister in law, and I later discussed the meal, and our desire for real knickerbocker glories. I may just make a bunch of hot fudge sauce and make a big fuck-off sundae this coming week. "SEE THAT IS HOW YOU DO A PUDDING MOTHERFUCKERS." Spite puddings. They taste so good.

So. There is to be a family get together later in the year with this same bunch of family. Lotta games. Can be a lot of fun as everyone is very nice. Initially there had been plans to get together in September so that is where everyone was mentally. Then a place was found to house everyone and it was announced we would be doing this in October. The weekend of my 10th wedding anniversary. The news came on a long day and I was just so put out. I thought, "FUCKING FUCK... NOPE" Major extrovert fest with people who really like to play games and talk about going for walks and then going on those walks and then more games, and I was just fucking pissed and roared about it for awhile. My sister in law, (who I think I will kidnap and take to the Hay festival as a thank you) gently pointed out to family members, "Hey, this may not be how some people anticipated spending their weekend. Potentially cooped up with a million relations."
And there were apologies and my husband's Auntie Lisa who I love so much pointed out that we could run off and go to the River Cottage restaurant which is in walking distance of the house we are renting. And my Mother in law said, "and there are a load of people who can babysit." I will not murder today.
Still not a weekend in Milan, but it isn't bad. I EXPECT PONIES AS WELL.
Yeah, I am one spoiled princess. It's okay, I tell myself to take off the crown and do the dishes.
still want a weekend in Milan or Venice. Dear Mr. Jenner, let's go to Milan and Venice again. We had fun. Remember.

I am reading a trashy book a friend sent me. It is just the thing I need right now. It opens with a young lady standing in the kitchen naked as she is making toast. So you know it is bound to be entertaining. And potentially dangerous.