Once in a blue moon

I've been getting blog withdrawal. The blooming internet never seems to be on any more, and even when it is, it's so slow that you can't actually do anything. I think it's something to do with the phenomenal amount of power cuts we're having at the moment. I have been trying to write for ages. Anyway, here I am again.

Hello.

Right. So, haven't seen any tigers this week. I have lost a whole pound of xmas chocolate flab, though,  through lots of very boring treadmill time in the gym. 

Good job too: I went to a shop to get some jeans copied the other day and took a pair of old and much-loved jeans that are now a tad too small and ripped on the knees. I had the following conversation with the attractive young nepali chap behind the desk:

me (holding up old jeans): I'd like to have these copied please, but they are a bit small.

him (frankly looking at the jeans and then sizing up my arse): a bit small?

So I told him with a cheery smile that I'd be back in again in a few weeks to make a smaller pair once I'd spent a bit of time in the gym. He looked unconvinced.

I'm committed though. After all, come April the pool will be open again, which is a scarily short amount of time to get back into bikini shape. Or any kind of shape, really. I have already tasked Sunil-the-tailor with making me three linen dresses, in the knowledge that any task takes him about a season to complete (we are still waiting for a pair of trousers for Hubby that were ordered in November), so fingers crossed he'll come good by late Spring - if he has not been abducted to Betelgeuse yet again - and my summer wardrobe will be sorted, if not my summer physique.

I keep thinking of more stuff to tell you about but I'm worried the internet connection will pack up again and I won't be able to post this, so I'll just say one more quick thing.

We had our Burns night thing last week. I left early and sort-of sober (as sober as you can be after five whiskys). Hubby stayed later, and has only the vaguest recollections of being spanked with a pair of red stilettoes in the middle of the gay gordon, and mooning the deputy chief-of-staff (a very nice woman who talks a bit like the Queen).

He has now vowed to give up whisky (at least until next Burns night)...