I never did get around to listing all the great Christmas presents that I got this year, in order to (1) make you all jealous and (2) emphasise what a great set of friends and family I have (in order to make you all jealous) and (3) show just how great I am as a reflection of the great things that I now own. Because we are, as I’m sure we all know, a sum of our belongings.
However, I will mention at this point one of the presents that I got from Little Sister Edel. She said that, while shopping, she had drawn a blank on what to buy me - I was strict with my instructions (yes, that’s right, I issue instructions to those attempting to buy me gifts) that the present(s) I received this year must not be too heavy, as last year on my way back to London I had had to pay Aer Lingus to take my extra heavy case on board, such was the manner in which I was heavily laden down with gifts. She had, she admitted, decided to “throw money” at the problem, and as a result her Christmas present this year was a little… shall we say “excentric”? Yes, let’s say that. Just as soon as I work out to spell it.
… Eccentric.
Two ‘c’s. Good.
As I say, one of the presents I got from Little Sister Edel this year was in some ways quite an eccentric one, but very pretty. Very pretty indeed. She was keen to point out to me, in case I missed it, how pretty the present is. It is very pretty.
She got me a sewing kit (including a thimble). It is very pretty. I just wasn’t entirely sure what I had done to deserve such a thing.
However, it very quickly came clear yesterday morning that Little Sister Edel has some magical powers for seeing into the near future - yesterday morning, a popper button came off my extravagantly sparkling coat, that I bought from a certain Spain-based ladies clothing store notorious for the way in which their buttons and fixtures regularly leap away to their doom.
Steady as a rock, I didn’t gasp and weep, collapsing to the floor at the thought of not being able to wear my lovely new sparkling coat to work. I sat down at the side of the bed, whipped open the pretty little sewing kit and got to work.
It was difficult at first, but in the end I felt I had done a sturdy job - the popper was well and truly back in place, seemed to be holding pretty sternly and so I was ready to rumble once again - and not even late for my train.
I stood up. I pulled my lovely new sparkling coat on. I went to pop together the popper and realised -
I had sewed it on upside down.
I feel it is to my credit that it took me ages to unhinge the stupid thing from the coat and re-do the stitching, such was the force with which I had originally sewed the little bugger on.
I’m very bright.
However, I will mention at this point one of the presents that I got from Little Sister Edel. She said that, while shopping, she had drawn a blank on what to buy me - I was strict with my instructions (yes, that’s right, I issue instructions to those attempting to buy me gifts) that the present(s) I received this year must not be too heavy, as last year on my way back to London I had had to pay Aer Lingus to take my extra heavy case on board, such was the manner in which I was heavily laden down with gifts. She had, she admitted, decided to “throw money” at the problem, and as a result her Christmas present this year was a little… shall we say “excentric”? Yes, let’s say that. Just as soon as I work out to spell it.
… Eccentric.
Two ‘c’s. Good.
As I say, one of the presents I got from Little Sister Edel this year was in some ways quite an eccentric one, but very pretty. Very pretty indeed. She was keen to point out to me, in case I missed it, how pretty the present is. It is very pretty.
She got me a sewing kit (including a thimble). It is very pretty. I just wasn’t entirely sure what I had done to deserve such a thing.
However, it very quickly came clear yesterday morning that Little Sister Edel has some magical powers for seeing into the near future - yesterday morning, a popper button came off my extravagantly sparkling coat, that I bought from a certain Spain-based ladies clothing store notorious for the way in which their buttons and fixtures regularly leap away to their doom.
Steady as a rock, I didn’t gasp and weep, collapsing to the floor at the thought of not being able to wear my lovely new sparkling coat to work. I sat down at the side of the bed, whipped open the pretty little sewing kit and got to work.
It was difficult at first, but in the end I felt I had done a sturdy job - the popper was well and truly back in place, seemed to be holding pretty sternly and so I was ready to rumble once again - and not even late for my train.
I stood up. I pulled my lovely new sparkling coat on. I went to pop together the popper and realised -
I had sewed it on upside down.
I feel it is to my credit that it took me ages to unhinge the stupid thing from the coat and re-do the stitching, such was the force with which I had originally sewed the little bugger on.
I’m very bright.