![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Dec. 6th, 2006 11:18 pmTo the sorting office this morning to collect another parcel; this one turned out to be the tapes and mark sheets for the Sorrell Song Contest Final. I'd fully intended not to open the package till I got home, but when the timetable at the bus stop showed I had a 15 minute wait, I couldn't resist opening it to pass the time. To my delight, Catherine Leander's song has made it to the final - so I already know where my 12 points are going.
Stopped off on the way home to post my Christmas cards.
Back on the mayoral trail at lunch time, as my mother and I went to the Christmas Lunch of a social club for disabled people, linked with the Masons. There was a magician there, doing the rounds of the tables; when he got to our table, after doing a card trick with some of the ladies (I spotted how the trick was done, but of course didn't say anything) he asked me to assist him with a trick. The trick consisted of putting a belt on me with two tubes attached, and, in the words of the magician, "putting a hole in" me - ie pouring water into the tube at my back, while water then poured out of the tube at my front into a bucket, so it looked like the water was passing through my body. Unfortunately, just as he was pouring water the bucket fell down, leaving a stream of water falling in front of me on the floor. Thank goodness, I only ended up with a couple of little splashes on my clothes, but by the time the magician fixed the bucket back in place there was a very large puddle on the floor. As I returned to my seat, the ladies on our table congratulated me on being a good sport, while the bar cleaners mopped up the water.
Next to me was Anne, a quite friendly lady. There was a bottle of sparkling wine on the table; because the label said 'Charlemagne', a couple of the ladies misread it as 'champagne', but a closer look at the label, plus the strong taste of pears, revealed it was pear wine. My mother insisted we all pull our crackers before the food had even begun. Three of us turned out to have the same joke in our crackers - "A hat trick," Anne said, with an air of triumph.
Starter was a nice slice of melon, then came turkey with all the trimmings (quite good). My mother was next to a guy dressed as Santa, whom she knew from a body she sits on in her Councillor's capacity. They spent most of the lunch talking shop, which drew disapproving comments from Anne and her neighbour Marion; with a smile, I agreed with them. The Christmas pudding came automatically served with custard (why, oh why, can't people give you the choice of custard or cream??) but I managed to eat the whole portion of pud with just a minimal amount of the yellow stuff. Not bad; me ma reckoned the pud was liberally laced with brandy, but I hardly noticed it. Maybe she ate loads of the custard and it was really brandy sauce... Santa took the opportunity to tell us all his Christmas pudding secret: he buys a shop pudding, injects it with large quantities of brandy, and leaves it to stand for a year.
In the afternoon I had to go into town to stock up on razors, shaving foam and toothpaste. I'd come 200 yards from home when I noticed a feeling like I was walking on paper. I lifted my foot and looked at my shoe sole; it was worn paper thin and even had a little hole in it. These are shoes I bought just FIVE WEEKS ago.
So, after stopping at the hole in the wall en route, my first port of call in town was Stead & Simpson. When the salesgirl asked "Can I help you?" and I said I'd like a pair of men's size 12s, she asked what type I would like. I replied that I was open to any suggestions, and she said I'd have to be more specific as they have size 12 in a lot of different types. At most shoe shops I'm just grateful they've got any size 12s at all!
I told her I'd like a pair with durable soles, explaining that I'd worn through my current pair in just over a month. She got out a black pair of a brand called Richleigh; they were fairly comfortable. When I'd walked about in them, she produced a second black pair, in a chunkier style, and said "I wasn't sure if you'd like these. They're US Brass." The US Brass seemed to have tougher soles, but they flopped at the back a bit. The Richleighs' soles weren't bad, and they were more comfortable, so I chose the Richleighs. As I went up to the counter, I noticed a sign advertising the fact that all Richleigh shoes had been reduced from £40 to £24.99. Was this a promotion? When the girl said she didn't think I'd like the others, had she been trying to sway me in favour of the Richleighs? No matter, I'm happy with them, fingers crossed.
My passport expires next month, so I called at the main Post Office to pick up a renewal form. I'm going to need up-to-date passport photos, so hopped in the Post Office's booth, sat down and started the 'Choose the type of photo you want' procedure - only to find the machine wouldn't accept a £10 note when I tried to feed it into the slot. It wanted coins or nothing. So I had to leave the automated lady's voice repeating 'Please insert coins to the amount required' and cross the road to Lloyds TSB to change my note before finally getting my pics done. I don't look good in them, but that's passport photos for you.
I don't want to talk about the Hawks' Hampshire Senior Cup tie at Gosport Borough. Despite fielding several first-choice players, and bringing Rocky and Richard on as second-half subs, we never looked like scoring and lost 1-0. At least I just had a 15-minute walk home after.
Stopped off on the way home to post my Christmas cards.
Back on the mayoral trail at lunch time, as my mother and I went to the Christmas Lunch of a social club for disabled people, linked with the Masons. There was a magician there, doing the rounds of the tables; when he got to our table, after doing a card trick with some of the ladies (I spotted how the trick was done, but of course didn't say anything) he asked me to assist him with a trick. The trick consisted of putting a belt on me with two tubes attached, and, in the words of the magician, "putting a hole in" me - ie pouring water into the tube at my back, while water then poured out of the tube at my front into a bucket, so it looked like the water was passing through my body. Unfortunately, just as he was pouring water the bucket fell down, leaving a stream of water falling in front of me on the floor. Thank goodness, I only ended up with a couple of little splashes on my clothes, but by the time the magician fixed the bucket back in place there was a very large puddle on the floor. As I returned to my seat, the ladies on our table congratulated me on being a good sport, while the bar cleaners mopped up the water.
Next to me was Anne, a quite friendly lady. There was a bottle of sparkling wine on the table; because the label said 'Charlemagne', a couple of the ladies misread it as 'champagne', but a closer look at the label, plus the strong taste of pears, revealed it was pear wine. My mother insisted we all pull our crackers before the food had even begun. Three of us turned out to have the same joke in our crackers - "A hat trick," Anne said, with an air of triumph.
Starter was a nice slice of melon, then came turkey with all the trimmings (quite good). My mother was next to a guy dressed as Santa, whom she knew from a body she sits on in her Councillor's capacity. They spent most of the lunch talking shop, which drew disapproving comments from Anne and her neighbour Marion; with a smile, I agreed with them. The Christmas pudding came automatically served with custard (why, oh why, can't people give you the choice of custard or cream??) but I managed to eat the whole portion of pud with just a minimal amount of the yellow stuff. Not bad; me ma reckoned the pud was liberally laced with brandy, but I hardly noticed it. Maybe she ate loads of the custard and it was really brandy sauce... Santa took the opportunity to tell us all his Christmas pudding secret: he buys a shop pudding, injects it with large quantities of brandy, and leaves it to stand for a year.
In the afternoon I had to go into town to stock up on razors, shaving foam and toothpaste. I'd come 200 yards from home when I noticed a feeling like I was walking on paper. I lifted my foot and looked at my shoe sole; it was worn paper thin and even had a little hole in it. These are shoes I bought just FIVE WEEKS ago.
So, after stopping at the hole in the wall en route, my first port of call in town was Stead & Simpson. When the salesgirl asked "Can I help you?" and I said I'd like a pair of men's size 12s, she asked what type I would like. I replied that I was open to any suggestions, and she said I'd have to be more specific as they have size 12 in a lot of different types. At most shoe shops I'm just grateful they've got any size 12s at all!
I told her I'd like a pair with durable soles, explaining that I'd worn through my current pair in just over a month. She got out a black pair of a brand called Richleigh; they were fairly comfortable. When I'd walked about in them, she produced a second black pair, in a chunkier style, and said "I wasn't sure if you'd like these. They're US Brass." The US Brass seemed to have tougher soles, but they flopped at the back a bit. The Richleighs' soles weren't bad, and they were more comfortable, so I chose the Richleighs. As I went up to the counter, I noticed a sign advertising the fact that all Richleigh shoes had been reduced from £40 to £24.99. Was this a promotion? When the girl said she didn't think I'd like the others, had she been trying to sway me in favour of the Richleighs? No matter, I'm happy with them, fingers crossed.
My passport expires next month, so I called at the main Post Office to pick up a renewal form. I'm going to need up-to-date passport photos, so hopped in the Post Office's booth, sat down and started the 'Choose the type of photo you want' procedure - only to find the machine wouldn't accept a £10 note when I tried to feed it into the slot. It wanted coins or nothing. So I had to leave the automated lady's voice repeating 'Please insert coins to the amount required' and cross the road to Lloyds TSB to change my note before finally getting my pics done. I don't look good in them, but that's passport photos for you.
I don't want to talk about the Hawks' Hampshire Senior Cup tie at Gosport Borough. Despite fielding several first-choice players, and bringing Rocky and Richard on as second-half subs, we never looked like scoring and lost 1-0. At least I just had a 15-minute walk home after.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
