Tuesday, June 3, 2008

A social occasion.....almost

Yesterday was my day for manning our local cat charity's shop in our village so I thought it a good opportunity to ditch the housecoat and wellies and put on heels and a decent set of clothes and scrub myself up a bit. You never know who might walk in. We're not short of celebs in our neck of the woods... Windsor Davies, Roger Whittaker.. jealous, eh?.. so it wouldn't do to be caught naked from the neck up just in case a passing paparazzi happened to want to catch a quick shot.

I do actually have experience of paparazzi, it may surprise you to know. Back in the real world, before kids and chickens and rural life in France, when my shoulders pads were for power dressing rather than pain relief from 'axe swingers shoulder', CH and I were invited to the Irish Derby as guests of Guinness. As CH was, at the time, working on Ballykissangel, the stars of which, Dervla Kirwan and Stephen Tomkinson, had just got engaged and Ballykissangelmania was at its height, their appearance caused something of a media scrum. Word had also leaked out that day, that Dervla's character was going to be killed off. I think our chauffeur's words were "I hord they's gonna fecking fry ya" (she was killed by a faulty fuse box - quite possible that I'll go the same way too!)

I spent the whole day being told to "move out the way, love", "can you just stand aside", "we only want Dervla and Stephen in the shot" until in the end I was forced to point out a) I was with child so would they be a little more respectful and b) we were the guests not them. They were only there because we'd asked them. Despite it all, we had a lovely day and they were a really charming couple.

On a brief aside, I just Googled Ballykissangel to double check that it was a faulty fuse box. Have you any idea how many fan sites there are? There's even a heartfelt Tribute to Assumpta Fitzgerald. You can leave you own tribute (mine would read something along the lines of 'You do realise she's not real, don't you?) but sadlythe Tribute Page wouldn't load.

Anyway, I've digressed for long enough. So, I carefully chose my wardrobe, not too smart, not too casual, and put on my heels ready to face my public. I'm a recent returnee to heels, having not found them useful in rural France where I left more of them stuck in the mud than on my feet. Unfortunately, I've now got fallen arches which my mother blames entirely on 3 years of welly wearing, and she's encouraged me to buy something with 'just a little heel'. This is a woman who never let a flattie on her feet until after her 70th birthday, when advancing age and gin and tonics took a toll on her balance. (That's a gross misrepresentation of my dear old Ma, of course!).

I picked up my trusty Mulberry bag and headed for the door, on the way checking my reflection and thinking "Hmm,not bad. Not good, but not bad either". I didn't notice one of the cats sitting in the doorway, and unused as I am to my heels, half tripped/half jumped over him in the style of a three-legged steeplechaser taking Bechers in the Grand National and dropped my Mulberry bag in an inconveniently placed pile of chicken poo.

For the second time in two days I was forced to reflect on whether I really am cut out for rural life.

6 comments:

DulwichDivorcee said...

But surely almost killing a cat is ideal practice just before working in a cat charity shop? Would get you in the perfect mood to be supportive towards little moglettes ...Hope the chicken poop came off the bag, I felt physical pain when I came to that bit of blog (never mind the poor bruised pusscat)! V funny

(Very) Lost in France said...

Shhh, don't mention killing cats too loudly!! Fortunately the poo came off although boy, does it stink. You are truly a woman after my own heart. VLiF

Sally's Chateau said...

A Mulberry bag and high heels ? Good on you !! don't take this France profonde business too seriously. Live the highlife ....right.

(Very) Lost in France said...

Thanks for visiting my blog. Ain't that the truth! Sometimes I long to be surrounded by people with good dress sense and nice hair! Instead everyone seems to be in wellies and covered in either mud or plaster dust(not my lovely immediate circle of friends of course).I think we've met before in cyberspace - on a yahoo group. I was supposed to get back to you with details of location companies but I left the group and forgot to get your details beforehand so sorry about that. I'm dying to know what your plans are so I'll keep reading.... VLiF

menopausaloldbag (MOB) said...

Oh just read your account of the monsoon weather over there! Crikey sounds like absolute hell and you seemed to cope really well. Hope you are drying out now.

Loved this story about the charity shop. Windsor Davies and Roger Whittaker? Honestly I thought those two old duffers had their toes pointing skywards by now! Bless them.

I loved Bally K and yes poor old Assumpta bought the farm being electrocuted. Sunday night, glass of robust red wine and Bally K. It was my reason d’ĂȘtre - haven't got a clue if I spelled that right!

Keep up the blogging, you are great. I'll stick you on my blog roll.

(Very) Lost in France said...

Hi MOB, thanks for you nice comments about my blog. Yes, we are all dried out now. Wouldn't even think it had happened except my wellies are still sitting on the radiator. Must move them! I must admit I enjoyed BallyK too. It was gentle and sweet and perfect for Sunday nights. Stephen T was really sweet with DS when he was a baby and we have some lovely photos of them together. He also told my Mum she looked too young to be a grandmother (creep!!) and she's been an ardent fan ever since. VLiF