Paradise is not without its hitches: yesterday at breakfast, there was no Hollandaise sauce with K’s Eggs Benedict. Imagine!
The only reason we didn’t immediately demand a full refund: K spotted that our table tops were hewn from the exact same style of granite as our pastry table in the cottage kitchen. Kindred spirits, and all that. Everyone is allowed one minor lapse. Just the one, mind.
We are amusing ourselves no end with our traditional favourite holiday pastime: inventing bitchy back-stories for our fellow guests.
(Examples deleted. Poor taste, bad karma.)
Evil, evil, evil. But so much more fun than the mundane truths which probably lie behind, ooh, let’s see, a good 70% of our fevered imaginings. It’s being vicious little madams as gets us through.
I have never seen sea water like this before. How do you say “crystal clear” without resorting to cliché? The colours are at their most vivid and complex just before lunchtime. If you lower your eyes to the level of the roiling, white-tipped swells (hem hem descriptive language), the effect is rather like gazing out over fields of half-set spearmint jelly.
For a scaredy-cat non-swimmer, I can be quite the water baby.
For more on That
Wedding Legal Union (hey, I was a little drunk), Miss Mish has a write-up and a photo, and Alan has transcribed a text conversation. Incidentally, Alan also has clicky-to-enlarge camphone snaps of That Stag Weekend Girlie Nite Out in Manchester, here and here.
Comedy highlight of the Happy Day: when the nice lady registrar, after double-checking my full name, date of birth, occupation and so on, asked me to “confirm my gender”. Having successfully managed to keep my wedding tackle inside my kecks over eleven weeks of regular attendance at Amateur Strip Night down the White Swan, I was in no mood to whap it out at the registry office, legal requirement or not.
“I’m a man”, I growled, in best butch voice. She seemed convinced.
Greetings card sentiment of the day came from Buni (or maybe from his handsome new-ish partner J), who inscribed – inside a card whose cover read ENJOY YOUR BIG GAY DAY! – the following:“Congratulations on settling your financial arrangements and securing visitation rights.” A necessary corrective. We liked that.
I have noted with amusement the clarion calls for a caption competition, in the next post below. OK, so let’s roll with this.
THE OFFICIAL TROUBLED DIVA LEGAL UNION OF THE CENTURY CAPTION COMPETITION.
There will be a prize of fraganced spa-resort incense sticks, all the way from the sun-drenched Maldives to the person who can come up with the best caption for this photo.
Please leave your entries in the comments box.
Nice talking to you. Back off to the beach now.