I CANNOT BELIEVE I HAVEN'T LJED IN SO LONG! I am genuinely shocked by my own lacksadaisical approach at telling you about what I've been doing. SHOCKED. GENUINELY. So, in the seven minutes available before the Lego Head Man lets out his traditional plaintive cry that dinner (in today's case, chicken cacciatore à la Nigella - tasty tasty) is ready to be fettled, I shall update you.
This is, of course, hampered by the fact that I can't remember what I've been doing.
♥ WEDDING! Jess got married to Douglas in the darkest depths of Gloucestershire, and I, along with Katie, Pim and Katherine, went to watch. It was really nice, and we saw various people, and Megan and Hannah were bridesmaids and supercute (they went off rollicking on the grass at the reception place and in their white dresses and Megan's hair up like a little C17th girl, they did look like they belonged in a timeslip story). So, wedding was good, speeches were very
good (Jess, I love you and your mother forever for both doing one), realising that the Kate and Fliss I'd been talking were in fact chiasmata
(well, Kate was), which fact apparently everyone else knew, was VERY EMBARRASSING but tant pis. Plus Travelodge/Little Chef hilarity, SO MANY TAXIS, and CELIA IMRIE being awesome. A good weekend.
♥ Our balcony garden is not yet dead. I know. We're amazed too. In fact, it's thriving: herbs are merrily growing away, we have tiny green strawberries, and our tomato plants are AS TALL AS THE SKY*. There has been a lot of watering, and also spraying of the mint with washing up liquid, as it has traumatically become infested with greenfly. Boofaces. Still, the washing up liquid is doing its promised job (god save Katie and her arcane childhood knowledge), so all is not lost.
♥ I feel I should let everyone know that, when the apocalypse comes, FT can survive for a month or so on baked beans, orange juice and yogurt. But I cannot share this information without attaching a grave warning: don't, when you find yourselves stumbling along the Strand, dodging zombies and trying to scavenge ginger nut biscuits from the bin (I'm looking at you, Helen: I know your tendancies), attempt to breach the barricade of 22 The bally old W. We will react strongly and sternly, and you will find yourself tumbling back down the stairs with the tiny remnant of a hacksaw sticking out of your eye.
♥ So, about that tiny remnant of a hacksaw. We bought a garden cane to be a curtain pole for the balcony door. So far, so good. But we knew it would be too long, so we bought a little hacksaw to cut it down to size. "Hmm," said Katie dubiously, "a hacksaw won't actually saw through wood." "La," said I, ever the optimist, "it will be fine." Came the day, came the garden cane/hacksaw attempt. Which lasted approximately three seconds, up to the point that the hacksaw blade snapped into three. "Ho hum," said I, and began my attempt to saw through a garden cane using the aforementioned tiny remnant of a hacksaw. It was about two inches long. My progress was not inspiring. After a while, Katie came to see what havoc I was causing. After putting newspaper down in a bid to stop me getting sawdust everywhere, she attached herself to one end of the tiny two-inch hacksaw blade remnant. I maintained my grip on the other end. Together, in a thrilling display of teamwork, we sawed that fucker in half. Oh, how we chuckled - near insensate with mirth, we were, and then I said (hilariously, I think we can all agree), "And then they realised they were punching a baboon!" which led to more laughter. Good times, readers, good times.**
♥ In other news, I cracked open my sewing machine, and hemmed the curtain that is to go on the hacksawed garden cane. I also made a top (rough draft with not-so-great material), which needs some work before I make it with proper material. But it's fun to be sewing again - I haven't really for ages (except for curtains etc when we moved in).
♥ Also, I have done other things with my time. I did the Remix Redux challenge, which was quite exciting because I've never done a proper challenge before. Maybe this will be the year I actually sign up for Yuletide! I wrote a Merlin fic which I quite liked in the end, so I will post that here soon.
♥ In other fanfictional news: Chalet School. Zombies. Coming soon to an LJ near you.
♥ Anyway, returning to the previous point. Other stuff. Katie and I went to see Iron Man 2, which I loved because RDJ is the king of ace. We went to a party at Nellie Dean's new house, which was vee nice. Also nice: the gather, the highlight of which was undoubtedly drinking many cocktails (and stealing bits of Kathryn's kumquat liqueur-themed ones) and trying to sing along to Joseph without Helen changing the playlist. After the gather we went to Ikea, and Katie and I bought things we needed without going crazy (the ultimate Ikea challenge). TRAGICALLY AND INEXPLICABLY the Swedish shop did not provide us with salmon paste. We are confused and desolate, just as if a treasured chum had kicked us in our lady bits.
♥ I have become indoctrinated into Criminal Minds. OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SHOW. I love everything about it. I love how the nice people at the beginning don't happen upon a grisly corpse, thereby setting in train the events of the episode. Oh no. They are
the grisly corpse(s) setting in train the events of the episode. Also, Garcia is so rocking awesome. And Spencer Reid is made of love. And Jane Lynch may be the most superdooper thing ever. And Hotch is so stern and so adorable, and Morgan is just so stalwart
. Anyway. Love.
♥ People should read this fic: Bredon in Narnia
- The White Witch tries to tempt a child of Peter and Harriet and fails utterly.
As, of course, she would. Also Rain Check
- An investigation takes Hotch into Harvelle's Roadhouse.
Because it's so just who Hotch and Ellen are.
♥ So, there you are. The last month or so of a squeenly life. I clearly haven't written this is the seven minutes before the Lego Head Man let out his plaintive cry. I have now nearly finished both my dinner and my yellow milk. And so I bid you adieu.
xoxo, Suburban Squeen ***
* Or about two feet tall, depending on how you view the situation.
** Which no one will appreciate, because no one ever does appreciate our hijinks. :-(
*** STILL AMUSING IN MY HEAD.