Sunday, March 09, 2003
What a busy weekend.Saturday was mostly taken up buying a whole new wardrobe. This new job requires smart casual attire, and while my typical dress style is certainly casual, you could never call it smart. So, 7 new tops, including polo shirts, long sleeve t-shirts, and sweat-shirts, 2 pairs of trousers, a jacket and a pair of shoes, all in colours and styles that I would never previously have considered... I think I'm all set. Expensive? Hmmm... £135. That's more money on clothes in one day than I've spent in the past year, but still a lot less than I was expecting. There may be photos forthcoming if I can get round to it.
Sunday morning... Grand Prix. Woohoo!
As has been pointed out in yesterdays comments, my semi-prediction was entirely wrong, and the Ferraris didn't wander off into the distance. I have to say, though I do love Ferrari road cars, I'm thrilled that they didn't dominate the race, 'cause last years races got so dull, I stopped watching. This race was a whole different kettle of fish, and very exciting. Lets hope they're all like that.
Sunday afternoon started out with a trip to visit Brigitte's parents on their narrow-boat, but when we arrived at the arranged place at the arranged time, they weren't there. One phone-call later, finding that they weren'y going to arrive for another couple of hours, we pootled off down the road to this fancy country shopping village thingie. It's like a small group of shops selling country crafts, arts, and garden related goods, aimed very much at the horsie set. Very up-market.
First things first of course, it was around 2pm, and time for breakfast *chuckles*. We went into this little cafe/resteraunt, where we had 2 coffees, Brigitte had some coffee/almod cake, and I had a chilli. Yummy... except the chilli was £6. Fair enough, if it had been the huge plate full I'd been expecting, but good lord... it was maybe enough to feed a baby mouse with stunted growth. Now I don't know what kind of prices horsie/country folk consider acceptable, but if they think £6 for a tiny plate of chilli that tastes no better than the frozen £1 chilli I buy in town is reasonable, they're completely demented.
So, extorsionate late breakfast consumed, and expensive country shops browsed, we went and met up with Brigittes parents. This involved a very enjoyable ride in the narrowboat, which for myself, someone with no boating experience at all, was very educational. Provided it was possible to hook up some kind of half decent net connection, I could quite see myself living on a narrow-boat one day, as having spent a little time on theirs, I can really see the appeal.
What had been a very active and enjoyable weekend was rather marred on the way home. We were sat at the exit of a petrol station, waiting to pull onto a very busy road. All of a sudden, Brigitte calls out "Oh no... it's not going to... look... that cat's not going to make it."
This black and white cat that looked very much like my own had made a dash to cross the road, running into very heavy oncoming traffic. Now I've seen plenty of dead cats by the side of the road in my time, including more than one of my own, but this was the first time I'd ever see it actually happen. The poor thing ran top speed, head first into the side of a car that was easily doing 50mph. It didn't stand a chance. I was horrified to see it tumbling head over heals down and across the road, coming to a halt in a crumpled bundle of twitching limbs. I was torn, wanting to go over to see if there was anything to be done for the stricken creature, but it was laying in a very dangerous spot, especially as it was dark, and not easily reachable from our location... and we didn't know the location of any vets in the area anyway. In the end, we thought better of risking life and limb to get across the road to it, and drove away with very heavy hearts.
Steve 11:24 PM [+]
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