now i know what it feels like to be the roast dinner of a house-proud wife. i've been boiling all week due to the weather. don't get me wrong, i'm not complaining, there are already far too many britons doing that, but the unrelentless heat makes it even more difficult than usual to resist the temptation of just sitting around in my underwear.
when i did decide to get out of the house earlier this week i took the short and sticky bus ride to my booba, whose help and guidence i required to try and figure out how to crochet, a task that has been set by my textiles teacher, as over the summer homework seeing as they cannot bear to think of us at home without any work to enjoy. my heart went all glowy when i found out that booba had gone to the shops to purchase a crochet needle for me. and this is a big achievement, believe me, because she can barely walk. she has passed the age of being able to snowboard and surf, although i highly doubt she did either of those, but she also has problems with her legs that can only be solved by surgery, which she is hoping to get at the end of the year. bless her...
yesterday i got the train to sahiras and as i boarded the epping bound train the very helpful overhead voice informs me that "it is hot" so i should "be carrying a bottle of water" and i in turn think thanks very much, there's not much i can do about it now is there you stupid idiot. anyways i arrived at sahiras red faced as she lives at the top of a hill and i assure you the trek up it really does seperate the boys from the men.�once i got there that day was lovely, we had a barbecue and�the bucks fizz was finished off surprisingly quickly and we moaned in upset and dissappointment after�watching for nearly 3 and�a half hours to see andy murray lose the wimbolden semi- final. i am so watching the final just to see andy roddick crash and�burn against federer. heres hoping...��� :)�
Add comment
