K.

I might be on my own at the weekend.
SO....
Chatted with K. today as we did a dry run of my 'route'. He is a decent enough chap but wouldn't win any awards for his teaching skills. A mumbler... A man who shoots directions when it's way too late. A man obsessed with relationship matters. Lives with his Mother. Not the best passenger. He means well and has a big heart, I mean he must have otherwise he wouldn't have agreed to accompany me.

At any rate we kind of got through it unscathed, he was though silenced by my knowledge of where Quorn Road was. The round is a beast. And that's a fact. And that's why they have given it to the newbie. Everyone knows it's a rotten round, not so much how many clients there are but the distance between them all. I mean to say, I am all over Leigh-on-Sea, up and down hills, over dual carriageways, ducking around impossible corners and to top it all, when I do get out of the motor and approach a house, I have to pray it isn't one with a 'safe key'. These really hold one up.

Anyway come Saturday I may be asked to go it alone...Apparently the woman in charge on Saturday is K., a woman who isn't the manager but thinks she is. Could be fun.
Sunday I'm seeing B., the real pukka manager, who, like with most managers, is blessed with a modicum of 'people' skills.

I might, emphasis might, I might go for another dry run tomorrow... ON MY OWN. Kev, bless him, is all heart but unfortunately for me he's all tongue as well:(
Too many cooks and all that.
We'll see.

Back to what satisfies...
Aaaah cooking. My salvation, my joy...Cooking tonight will be Lemony Chicken, green beans and rice.
Very simples.

Other inconsequential goings on and mutterings...
My hairdresser, Lisa can't do my hair on Saturday. Tuesday she said. Blow you I said and so I whooshed it this morning with some purple foam mousse. There.
David Cameron is getting on my nerves.
I don't like this weather because I don't know what to wear. Clad in over sized jumper and boots today I positively glowed as I got held up by massive delivery man. The man wasn't massive, only his Arctic.
Haven't watched any telly for ages.
Bought another lipstick. Autumn Berries. Makes me want to cut faces into pumpkins.
I had a look at my feet today.
And delved deep into my heart.

Queen of Sainsburys

Yesterday.

I kept to my word.
Mostly.
I made a panful of Meatballs and some proud individual Queen of Puds (see pics above) only venturing into my garden for a quick refreshment break, oh and to listen to a battalion of drum banging children, a couple of gardens down, pretending to be rock stars.
It was quite nice actually, the sweet timbre of the continuous bang bang bang went well with my cup of strong tea and super sized Rock Cake. I didn't moan, instead I joined in with the nippers musical ensemble by working up a sweat with a bit of air guitar!
I hope no-one saw me...

Today.

Today I'll be melting my way to Sainsburys with the car roof open, and as I'm dawdling past The Blue Boar and The Monk and Fisherman all red and parched, I'll imagine I'm driving my metallic green jam jar along some high white mountain roads somewhere with a fellow dry dreamer by my side.
It'll give me a little lift I expect.

And with the warm wind roughing up my silver flushed hair and Radio 4 feeding my old brain I'll arrive dishevelled but full of intelligence at Sainsburys.
And after loading up the trolley with essentials and non-essentials, I'll give cashier number 3 all my lolly and then vroom vroom back.

On the menu today:
Steak. I expect.
Followed by homemade Mango Ice Cream. Definitely.

Have a smashing day everyone.