by Amanda Egan
I’ve got my new friend coming home, Max’s party to look forward to tomorrow, the wedding on Saturday and my birthday party next week.
Feel like I’m emerging from hibernation and welcome the chance to be busy again.
Just remembered - spent so many hours trying to compensate for Max not having a ‘proper’ summer holiday by being the perfect mum, I’ve fallen a little behind with my preparations.
TO DO - UPDATE LIST
Finish making the party bags out of faux fur (picked up at the Pound Shop, my favourite and much needed bargain haunt) Add ‘doggy name tags’ to each - only 12 to go!
Think the ‘Dog theme’ works and that the chocolate button ‘Good Boy Chocs’ and bone shaped biscuits will be taken in good humour.
Hope that no one’s seen the super-cute stuffed dogs I also got at the Pound Shop but then tarted up with a bit of fancy ribbon. Must have been my lucky day - they were two for a pound!
Ice birthday cake.
Brush up on ‘Delilah lines’.
Make wedding cake!
Buy oasis ready to do wedding flowers - check Fenella’s still available to help Friday pm.
Get hat to go with gorgeous lace dress I picked up at ‘The Frock Exchange’. Must be overtly theatrical or Nic will have a hissy fit.
Hunt down fantastic dress for my birthday party - must make me look no older than 30 and at least a couple of kilos lighter. Surely someone’s created one by now?
Ned to put up mini gazebo we picked up in the Argos sale - in case of rain tomorrow. Hope we can squeeze all the kids under it if necessary.
Oh yes, yes, yes. Heaven! Things to do again.
Rather a lot of things to do in fact.
Perhaps I’ve left just a little too much to the last minute?
Off to have a coffee and panic.
PM
Can’t actually hold my pen properly as my fingers are so sore from stitching the party bags - why did I ever think they’d be a good idea? Next time, I’m buying them like everyone else - the saving wasn’t worth it.
Glass of wine, another panic, finish the birthday cake and then clean the house before bed.
Tuesday 19th August AM
Max’s birthday party.
Gloriously hot day, thank goodness. Just as well I kept the receipt for the gazebo- return expertly refolded tomorrow, for refund. Yess!
No time to write - got sandwiches to make that won’t get eaten and jellies that will.
Must also start to ‘become’ Delilah. Ned will never forgive me if I’m not convincing.
PM
Totally shattered but really pleased with ourselves.
Party was a huge success. Several children were heard telling their mothers that it was the best they’d ever been to.
Slightly worried that one mum asked if I could give her the number to book the same puppet show for her son’s party. Still, I suppose we should be flattered.
Fenella said the show was “absolutely marvellous” (sorry Lou!) and that if we ever needed to subsidise Ned’s income, we’d found our vocation. Ha ha! And Mrs S said she laughed so hard she almost had a ‘little leakage’ - too much info, Mrs S.
Ned was feeling quite chuffed with himself and I think he felt a sense of loss as he dismantled the puppet theatre and contemplated the idea of going back to the office tomorrow. His day off work spent in the limelight as a puppeteer was well and truly over.
Too tired to cook so finished off the dried up, curled sandwiches with a bottle of wine in the garden.
Knew what a good job we’d done when Max popped down from his bed and hugged us both saying, “Thank you. That was the coolest party ever. Can I have the same again next year?”
Could almost see Ned mentally contemplating the next script and deciding on a re-furb for the theatre.
Who says you can’t have fun on the cheap? Just totted up the figures and we managed to hold a very successful party for 18 kids for about sixty quid.
Off to bed feeling quite smug.
Wednesday 20th August AM
Went to Fenella’s to try on some of her hats - honestly, that woman could start up her own agency. She’s got them for every occasion, in every colour, style and shape.
“Oh but I rarely wear them, Lib. I just can’t resist them.” She giggled. “Actually, hats don’t really suit me because I’ve got the most peculiar shaped head but it’s just so nice to take them out of their boxes once in a while!”
Mad as a hatter, I tell you.
She confided that every now and then she sells one off at a dress agency so that she can pay parking tickets or fines for dodging the congestion charge without Josh finding out.
“I suppose they’re a bit like my own secret insurance policy,” she added.
Well, thank heavens for loopy friends because I’ve now borrowed the most delicious hat in cream and black silk - it’s huge and perfectly OTT for Nic & Rick’s big day. Can’t believe it’s come around so quickly and that I have, pretty much, everything under control - just the cake and flowers to go.
Max stayed at Fenella’s for the afternoon so took the opportunity to go home and make a start on the cake. Wonder if there’s a patron saint of wedding cakes? If so, I hope they’re on duty in my kitchen this afternoon. What would they be called? ‘Saint Self-Raising’? ‘Saint Fluffily-Light’?
PM
Ned came home to a slightly manic wife.
‘Saint Burnt-to-a-Cinder’ had obviously been in charge today.
Why is it I can churn out mouth-watering cakes by the tin load but the one time I need perfection, I make a complete balls up of it?
I’d practised the cake several times over the summer and every time it was perfect. Just not this time.
And that’s why Ned came home to a smoke filled kitchen and a wife sporting flour, chocolate and a demented frown.
“Go and pick Max up from Fenella’s.” Was all I could muster. “And don’t expect any dinner tonight cos the oven’s on the blink.
Think I heard him mumble something about a workman and his tools as he left.
Couldn’t be sure, as the smoke alarm started to wail.
Thursday 21st August AM
Ned had to eat humble pie - there wasn’t anything else on the menu anyway - our oven has officially breathed its last.
We figured out that the thermostat had packed up so the oven just kept getting hotter and hotter (hence burnt cakes - not my fault) until it finally burnt itself out. Think, after yesterday, I know how it felt.
Am off to use Fenella’s Aga today. Or should I say, I’m off to prepare the cake for Fenella to put in the Aga. My last experience with one of the wretched things was in a holiday cottage with Lou & Cam, and it took two hours to boil eggs - became known as the ‘take-away break’ - for obvious reasons.
PM
Had a surprisingly relaxing time at Fenella’s this afternoon - the cake cooked to perfection and is now awaiting assembly and decoration tomorrow.
We spent the afternoon sunbathing and drinking Pimms while the kids played in the garden.
Came home and remembered we had no dinner and no oven to cook it in if we did.
Euphoria of the day deflated slightly.
Felt even more depressed when Ned said that a new oven would use up the majority of our emergency funds.
Why can’t I be like Fenella and have a few hats to flog off for situations like this? Don’t think my second hand glad rags would raise much in the way of collateral, though.
Could be time to rent out ‘Ned and his Amazing Mobile Puppet Show.’
Joked to him about it but he didn’t see the funny side.
Friday 22nd August AM
Spent the morning putting the finishing touches to the cake and I’m absolutely delighted. Perhaps I could take it up as a profession? Expect I would need all the proper tools of the trade though. Like an oven, for instance.
Only down side to the cake is that Nic insisted on having two miniature bride-grooms on the top -
can’t believe he’d want something so tacky and it ruins the simple class of my creation. Oh well, it’s his wedding so I’m not in a position to argue.
I’m still laughing at the ridiculous positions Ned suggested the figures should be in - felt quite tempted to put them on the cake in the rudest configuration but resisted.
Off to flower market to get everything Fenella and I need for tonight.
Wonder what tools of the trade you need to be a florist?
PM
We finally finished the flowers at about midnight - floristry is definitely not my calling.
Roses are vicious and I never want to see another of their nasty little thorns in my life. ‘Prick’ certainly became the word of the night! With a few other expletives thrown in by one or the other of us at various intervals.
Realised at about nine that I hadn’t bought anywhere near enough lilies or greenery. In perfect Lou style, we sent Ned and Josh to Asda for emergency supplies. Josh said he might even bring back some Galliano, as he wanted to discover what all the fuss was about.
When they eventually called to say they’d got another 10 bunches of lilies but no greenery, Fenella sent them off to the common saying, “Just use your imagination and don’t chop too near where dogs might have peed.”
She then looked at me and giggled. “Hope they don’t get caught by the ranger. He might think they’re cottaging!”
We both found this ridiculously funny given their shared homophobia - enhanced by the fact that we were on our second bottle of wine.
The wine was probably also responsible for our first few arrangements looking fairly professional and the subsequent batch looking like Max and Todd had thrown them together.
Anyway, the job got done and I had to get to bed so that I’d be in a fit state for the courier to collect everything in the morning.
Thank goodness the coffee in the Galliano sobered me up.
Saturday 23rd August
Nic & Rick’s wedding day (sorry Ned, ‘Civil Ceremony’ Day)
Woke with raging hangover - serves me right for getting Fenella to help with the flowers. She’s a bad influence on me.
Slapped on rejuvenating face pack and soothing eye balm in the hope that I would look rejuvenated and soothed.
Bloke came to collect the wedding stuff - think I gave him a bit of a fright because I was still wearing facial jollop.
Then he looked at the cake in its protective box and smirked at the figures, “Bit tacky innit, Luv?”
Mum arrived to look after Max so Ned, Mrs S and I set off happily in our black and cream finery - although Mum put the dampeners on it a bit by saying I needed to change my washing powder because Ned’s cream shirt was ‘a very grubby looking white!’
Sunday 24th August
Spent the day flaked out in front of DVD’s and pretending to make Lego figures.
Yesterday was brilliant from start to finish - even ‘homophobe-hubby’ had a good time. Which, considering it was wall to wall with gay men (natch), was a bit of a feat.
HIGHLIGHTS OF THE DAY
#1 Arrived at the hotel and met Nic’s mum and dad outside. I’ve known them for over twenty years and still don’t know how they managed to create Nic. Not only are they very old but they’re also the tiniest, quietest, most unassuming pair you could ever wish to meet. Nic is huge, loud and is more confident than anyone else I know.
He’s an only child though, and the light of their life - in their eyes, he can do no wrong. I’m sure Meg (his mum) would have loved to have grandchildren, but she turns everything into a positive and greeted me with, “Oh, Libby, that adorable puppy you gave to Nic & Rick - she’ll give us so much pleasure over the years. We’re down for babysitting duties when the boys are off touring or clubbing, you know.”
His dad, George then added, “Isn’t it good to see our son settled down at last? All we’ve ever wanted is for him to be happy and he and Rick make such a good team.”
Brought a tear to my eye.
Please God, don’t let Max be gay because I don’t imagine his friends would hear the same heartfelt endorsement from Ned on his ‘Civil Ceremony’ day!
#2 Nic & Rick looked gorgeous. Arrived in a fab car and as we all greeted them, Nic called out to Ned, “Hey, Nedster. I said ‘black and cream’ - not a dirty shade of white!”
He’s such a woman!
#3 The service was short but touching, with them both reading a piece about their love and devotion for one another.
Got quite emotional and had a lump in my throat.
Ned said later that he’d felt something in his throat too. But it was more like bile.
#4 The function room looked stunning and our flower arrangements certainly looked the part. The cake was prominently displayed on a spot-lit table in a corner. Several gay couples admired it, cooing over the miniature bride-grooms. Each to their own.
#5 Drank lots of frothy pink cocktails before the meal. Nic said they were made to their own secret recipe and was going around asking everyone if they fancied a ‘Pink Cock’.
Meg chuckled coyly and said, “I’ll just have a little one!” And Mrs S totally innocently (and I think trying to sound sophisticated) added, “Oh yes, I am very much happy to be partaking of some pink cock myself.”
Ned just said he’d settle for a pint.
Not one to let him off easily, Nic retorted, “How do you like your head, big boy?”
#6 Found ourselves on a table with two of Nic’s oldest gay friends, Piers and Tom, who have been together forever but bicker incessantly, and a married couple, Hannah and Phil - ex neighbours of Rick’s. Great table to be on because Piers and Tom are a bit like a comedy double act and Hannah and Phil are always up for a laugh - and of course straight, so Ned felt more in his comfort zone.
Piers was complaining that the ceremony hadn’t been performed by a ‘proper vicar’.
“Cos you know, I’m rather partial to a man in a dog collar,” he went on.
“Yes but you prefer the studded variety, don’t you darling? Complete with lead.” Tom winked at me.
Ned’s comfort had been short-lived.
They then embarked on the most ridiculous debate about housework.
Piers considers himself to be the dominant one in the relationship so therefore does all the ‘manly’ jobs - the rubbish, decorating, electricals etc. They call these the ‘blue jobs’. (Ned reddened a little as he misheard).
Tom is the female component so does the washing, shopping, cooking etc. The ‘pink jobs’.
They’d had a huge row that morning over who should change the bed-clothes. It didn’t fit either category because they usually took it in turns or did it together. Eventually decided that these ‘in-betweenies’ would be the ‘purple jobs’.
“But, Libby my gorge. What’s loo cleaning? Blue, pink or purple? Tom asked. Neither of us want to do it. So bad for the nails.”
Ned said that in our house it would be classed as purple but, if it was causing them so much grief, why didn’t they just get a cleaner?
Piers loved the idea. “Oh you darling boy”, he answered. “What a superb idea! We could get one from those kinky agencies that send along a naked hunk who does wonders with a feather duster and a squirt of their Mr Muscle.” (Ned squirmed again).
Tom bristled a little but his eyes glazed over as his imagination took hold. “OK, but only if I get to do the interviewing,” he bargained. “After all, surely hiring housekeeping staff is a pink job?”
“Oh absolutely”, I agreed.
Ned leant over to me and said, “Don’t get any ideas. If anyone’s doing the housework in the buff, it’s you! Although I quite like the idea of a little lace pinny. Hmmm, think I feel a birthday idea coming on!”
#7 Food was excellent and we moved swiftly on to the speeches. All very funny and quite risqué - Meg & George blushed several times but they’re very open-minded. Nic made a touching tribute to me and presented me with the most amazing bouquet of flowers saying I was his ‘Ho
mo-Honey!’
He does so love to wind Ned up.
#8 Heard Piers and Tom arguing again. Piers felt the cleaner should come on a Monday between 10 and 12 when he was at home but Tom felt he should come on a Wednesday between 4 and 6 when he was at home! Heard Mrs S threaten to bash their silly little girlie boy heads together if they didn’t stop bickering - then she actually made them kiss and make up before strutting her little Indian tush over to the DJ to ask if he’d be playing some Barry later.