Hestia.....and old people

I was taking a leaf from Vix's book the other day and popped into one of our local charity shops (of which there are several) to scour for a bargain.  The three white-haired ladies behind the counter all chirped a merry 'good morning' as I set about rootling through the second-hand books and anti-macassers.

Since I was the only customer in the shop, I couldn't HELP but overhear their conversation which went EXACTLY like this.  Honest to God.  Not a single Hestia-inspired embellishment, cross my heart and hope for gallstone pain.




Specs:  I might pop up and see Hobble this afternoon.
Pearls:  Why? What's up with Hobble?
Specs:  She's been in and had to get a new hip.  AND she might need to get a new knee.
Pearls and Fur Coat make clucking, caring noises.
Fur Coat:  And why is this the first time I have heard about this?
Specs shakes her head.  Maybe you weren't in here when we were told?
Pearls *in conspiratorial tones*  You know Brooch?
Specs and Fur Coat murmur their assent
Pearls continues: Well, SHE went in for a new hip and SHE was told there was something wrong with her shin bone too.  AND THEY BROKE HER SHIN BONE AND RE-SET IT!!!
Specs makes shocked noises and begins to cash up the till.  It is not even midday.

By this time I have worked my way around to the handbags and am studying a nice leaf green one that might be quite useful.  I spot a navy blue one that is capacious but does look a bit 'old lady'.  I fiddle with the clips, testing them for durability for potential Nintendo DS stuffing.

Specs sighs and looks out at people wandering by, making the most of the remains of the morning. 'Anyway. I might pop along to the bakers and get a wee cake for Hobble and I this afternoon'.
Fur Coat: Are you going to go up to see Hobble?
Specs:  Yes.  I'll get my washing hung out and then go.
Fur Coat:  Why are you going up to see Hobble?
Specs:  Because she's had a new hip and might need a new knee.
Fur Coat *indignant*:  And why is this the first time I have heard about this?

Reader, I just put the two handbags back on the hook and backed out of the shop as the three of them once again launched into their discussion of new knees and hips.

*shoot me now*

Hestia...perhaps needs better glasses

....or stop listening to the radio when I'm carrying out my ablutions in the morning.

Hemorrhoid ointment does not taste a bit like toothpaste.  That's all you need to know.

Hestia...and various bits of rubbish

Susan Sarandon gets fainty too
I have hair very much like Magenta *sad face*

BLOOD TESTS - Went for them last Wednesday and suffered the embarassment of almost keeling right over afterwards.  I NEVER faint.  I think it might have been because of the random musings by the phlebotomist about my veins before we started.

I don't like veins.

I can't watch videos of the Stereophonics' Kelly Jones singing because he's got a vein that positively THROBS when he's straining to sing.  And that's all the time.

Hestia...and the Random Ingredient Test

You are not reading The White Oaks of Jalna

Picture the scene:  I am lying in bed, resplendent with bed jacket and socks (and hot water bottle) surrounded by cookery books of every hue and size.  I am wearing my specs and diligently flicking through my latest cookery acquisition for the Random Ingredient Test.

What? You don't know what that IS?

I'm pretty confident that you will have heard of its sister test, the Random Fuck Test?

Hestia is...a stylish Blogger apparently

look close - is that snot?

Jeepers - nominated twice!  It's like the Academy Awards (look - you'll just have to believe that I'm sitting here in a gold strapless lame gown, hair ironed and pinned into some kind of submission, mascara running as I weep my thank yous out to Legend and Inner Whispers for their nominations.

By the way, it's not a LAME frock, but I can't figure out how to do French accents on here *stares at keyboard in puzzled manner*

Hestia....and the long dark tea-time of the soul

Last night it happened again.  The night of agony that I spent standing bolt upright and panting shallowly in the hotel bathroom in London last October, struck again.

As I got ready for bed last night I was aware of a twist of pain on my right side.  I wondered whether it might be the return of the London Pain and went to bed.  Within 30 minutes I was in agony.  And that's not a light-hearted Hestia-type exaggeration.  It was AGONY.  It was worse than appendicitis agony and nearly as bad as Jedward agony.

Hestia and Sonshine...get baking

I am very fond of cookery programmes and cookery books in general. I take them up to bed and peruse them with the same lustful curiosity that a teenage boy might study his rather well-thumbed copy of Razzle.

'Ooooh' I groan, turning the page to a centre spread of a leg of lamb in a herby tomato sauce on a bed of plumply moist macaroni.  Looks as tastily Italian as Rufus Sewell in a Versace suit. I show Tertarus the glossy picture:

Hestia ...and the Final Accounts (finally)

December was a long, cold month during which I only saw daylight when I had to hurry out to the workshop behind the office to freeze my nether regions off in the bog.

I emerged from the 2008 Accounts a scant 7 days before Christmas, mole-like and blinking in the watery winter sunlight.  At this point, the bank balance on the Sage system was nothing like the bank account balance on the actual paperwork...and the less said about the mysterious behaviour of the credit card, the better....but it was done to the best of my meagre mathematical abilities.

Hestia and.....Sex Education

When Tertarus was home over Christmas, Sonshine approached him for a bit of a heart to heart over the LEGO whilst I was away...trying to record the carol concert for m'blog.

Apparently, our 10-year old son was asking Tertarus how to get and keep a girlfriend.  Tertarus wisely omitted to fill me in on what his sage answer was, but I confess to being slightly miffed at being left out of the conversation.

Hestia considers....cutting her hair

Guess which one is me?

One bright morning in July, I sat in my Conference room in Birmingham and dashed off a heart-felt blog about my dreadful hair.

More than anything (even having a non-Scottish mouthful of straight, white teeth) I would love to have had swooshy hair.  Or even shiny hair.  I have hair that could pull trucks and provide a comfortable home for nesting birds.

I am thinking about getting it cut off.

Hestia....and The Bins (The Sequel)

pic from http://www.bentleybrushware.co.uk

Reader, you will recall that I took a brain storm one day and put my neighbours' bins back where they ought to have been placed....and risked the ire of a truculent neighbour as a result.  You can catch up here if you've a spare half hour.

Well, the story continues....

Hestia ...gets a bit ranty

I'm confined to barracks at the moment with hideous toothache (that two trips to the dentist have failed to resolve) and Sonshine who has been hit with the double whammy of a heavy cold and a sickness and diarrhea bug. Deep joy for all the family.

In the past six days I have had to travel to the mainland three times to variously go to the dentist, dinner and a funeral.

And one thing has become crystal clear in the course of my enforced sojourns on the mainland - We have lost our manners.