friday, friday

I went to a clothes swap thing at lunchtime today. Everyone brought along clothes they didn't wear, and swapped them, for a nominal price (three hundred rupess, about £2.70) for other clothes, with the profits going to a local charity. I ended up with a jumper with a rabbit-fur panel on the front. I can't decide if it's a bit too Cruella de Vil. But I secretly like it, and the fact that it's very non-PC. In England I shall have to wear it to a McDonald's drive thru, in a very old petrol-engine car with a big zoomy exhaust, and possibly have matching crocodile skin shoes and handbag on too. Or something. A woman at the lunch-thing said I should be careful that outraged people didn't throw paint at me in the furry top. I said I didn't mix in those kind of circles - don't think many army types would really give a stuff about a couple of dead rabbits, do you?
I say it was a lunch-thing, but actually it was more of a canape and cake thing, and although I ate about twenty mini pesto omelette thingys, I'm blooming starving now.
The hostess was a very elegant, calm and thoughtful french woman. She's a writer too, except that she writes deep and thoughtful prose, and I write pot-boilers. Afterwards we had a little chat about writing. I think my book is to hers, what a mini mars bar is to supper at a Michelin-starred restaurant. Hey ho, people will always secretly crave mini mars bars though, I guess...Anyway, I'm a little bit in awe of her.
Nothing planned for the weekend, except an invitation to a book launch on Sunday. Bizarre that out here I'm a member of the literati. Back in the UK the closest I'll get to being invited to a book promotion will be knocking into the two-for-one book basket with my trolley in Tescos.
Right, supper time, at long blooming last!