On the morning of my wedding I went with La Belle Belle Fille to the hairdressers. They had double booked the appointment. Instead of apologising, they made it plain - in the way only Parisians can - they thought this was my fault. After much huffing and tutting, the hairdresser snatched the flowers the florist had prepared for my hair and scolded me that they were not prepared properly. My fault again. She then set a hapless trainee to work on my head and went into raptures over La Belle Belle Fille promising to create the most wonderful, original, knock-out coiffure for her. I wanted to say: "Excuse me, it's ME who's getting married", but I was very, very stressed and worried if I opened my mouth I would cry. That was a few years ago and the hair turned out fine in the end. The wedding too.
This scene flashed back today when I sparked up the computer and discovered what is interesting (the) three readers of this blog, my blog, is not me, my week, my hopes and fears and feelings. No. They want to know about my meeting earlier this week with Jaywalker. "What's she like? What's she like?" squawk the emails. "What's she like?"
Well sorry. I have three minutes and 20 seconds to find a recipe for Chocolate Cornflake Cakes to make and sell for La Fille's school's 'solidarity fund' so you're just going to have to wait...!
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7 comments:
I am sure I am a great disappointment in person, though I do have three heads and each of them is bearded.
Choc crispies - the secret is golden syrup. Oh, and French people don't know what they are supposed to taste like, so even if they harden to rock like consistency or fail to set, is fine...
http://uktv.co.uk/food/recipe/aid/533902
Your life is tough as an English woman living amongst these unreasonable Parisians and then you have to serve them that cornflakes thing, which they won't appreciate. Tsk, tsk, how much more can you take?
The week before my wedding, I went to have my hair trimmed (trimmed, not cut), as pre-arranged with my hairdresser. He got all nervous, thinking "it's for her wedding", that he cut the fringe in an inverted U shape - short in the middle and longer at the sides. When I went into the office the next morning, a colleague said "oh, it's Pam Ayres", which, as you can imagine, really helped.
There. I read your story, sympathised, stayed on subject, an didn't ask about Jaywalker. Does that make you feel better?
Dear all, I hope this post came across as a joke...never sure with the written word. Solipsistic, moi?
Jaywalker, not at all and thanks for the recipe. Couldn't find Golden Syrup so sloshed some maple stuff in. As you say, who'll know.
Irene, I don't know, I really don't know!
Iota, much better now thanks!
How about your election today ?
I am sure being upstaged by one's daughter is an experience we, as mothers, will have to get used to.
I enjoyed the post
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