At an arty thing recently I was asked "Are you doing anything in the Olympics?" I was so worried about what awful lies I must have told to make me sound like a world class athlete; should I lie and say I was considering the long jump but had finally plumped for the decathlon? I then remembered there was an Olympic art project thing with globes that we were going to do but it got shelved as the damned things were so big and heavy, transport was nightmarish and they'd all have to be painted at a specific site. It was also all a bit too worthy. It was whilst Charlie, my boss, was in his muesli eating save the planet phase. He must have spent heaps of money having these damned things made. They couldn't be fibreglass as that is very planet unfriendly so they were made in some sort of grass matting or linen and linseed oil and weighed an absolute ton. The idea was there would be an avenue of these at the Olympic village. Not any more, unless they've gone ahead without me. I don't mind; I've got Mr Smith to look after these days. He's taking me for a walk this afternoon which I wouldn't mind but I went for a marathon swim this morning. Oh well, it's good for me. I know this because he told me.
Yesterday Mr Smith was extraordinarily nice. He drove me all the way to a cake decorating supplies warehouse in Cricklewood. Mr Smith hasn't stopped moaning about this nose to tail sojourn around the North Circular ever since. He was so annoying at breakfast I decorated his newspaper with yoghurt. Well, he was carping at me as usual about my failure to do something or other and the state of the A406 and, as I'd had a very trying night with a stomach ache from overindulgence and a spot of indigestion, I was a bit crotchety. I'm better now. The newspaper isn't.
The Best Boy has gone to Poland - yippee. He nearly left his passport behind then forgot his suitcase. I have no idea how this was my fault but he made it so. I did not take him to Stansted .... I am collecting him. He is away for quite a long time - oh bliss - with a girlfriend he doesn't like. Serves him right.
Mrs Smith's new favourite thing: instant snow in a tin - oh wow. 1 tsp snow powder plus 100ml water and you can ski round your kitchen.
I lost the special Christmas tree icing nozzle I bought yesterday and searched high and low. I then held my nose and rifled through the bin - outside - oh yuk. But say not the struggle nought availeth for I found it in the bag that I had thrown away. Well done moi. Oh please don't tell Mr Smith after all he struggled through two hours of traffic for that. He'll tell you all about it if you're lucky enough to see him.
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