Mobility has returned, somewhat, and this meant that the GTI Spring Festival at Santa Pod was much more enjoyable than it could have been. Aside from She of Terminal Rudeness, who was terminally rude. I'll put the detils in later as part of a separate post, because it sums up What Is Wrong In Britain Today. And so on.
GTI SF was good though, although we didn't get to see Fireforce burn down the track, and apparently it was a lot quieter than usual.
There was a Devon Bay camper for sale though. £8700. As we walked towards her, she looked good. Tintop (no pop top) cream over pale coffee/beige, empi5 wheels, the works. She was an early Bay (wrap around bumper, crescent moon vents,) and a lovely looking interior.
And then we got closer, both back quarteers had gone and been filled prior to painting. There were bubbles of rust in all the usual places, although they had either been painted over or had come up after the paint job. Then J put himself on the floor and the underneath was rotten as a pear. That vehicle needed about £4000 of strip, parts, welding, respray.
Oh well. The right one is out there for us.
The AC came back from Mothering Sunday with his father to bring me a signed copy of Alan Coxons new book, and had shaken his hand and so on. His father hadnt thought about card or anything, but well, that's ok. J was happy to have sorted it out, had the AC been here with us this weekend. He wanted to be here with us this weekend, but well, divorce is a bitch sometimes my child. He's getting to the age where I would be prepared to let him choose where he wants to be if there is something going on on the weekend that he isn't with a particular parent, but I can't see his father going for that.
And finally.
I smell.
Oh, I do. There is only so much a girl can do with a strip wash every day when she's only washed her hair ONCE in the last 10 days, and not had a shower or bath or anything remotely involving lots of hot water and soap and shampoo and conditioner and body butter and NICE THINGS.
I am as hairy as a Yeti, and I smell like a swamp.
Ok, so both of those things are exaggerations, because I would never let myself go to that extent. I always manage to do *something* because the stench of body odour is just not what is needed. I know of someone who didn't get kept on after her probationary period because she smelled so strongly.
That's an extreme case though, and I hope it was a wake up call for her to pay some attention to herself and get it together.
Ok, I've got to get on, and do stuff, because so far today I already have to:-
Tax the car
Do some college work
Plan an essay
Write part of the essay
Plan work for school
Do something more in the kitchen
Washing
Drying
Hoover
Get the snake food out
Food shopping
Oh yes.
And rest.......
Laters people.
