Archives for 6 February, 2004

This is something that the working world wants to know. I will tell you.

I bring about present inflation. You know the way there is always someone who has the perfect present, beautifully wrapped? I have become that person. I spend my days buying tasteful gifts and wrapping them in attractive paper (not very beautifully wrapped I must concede as I am no good at that). I buy presents for godchildren, birth presents, birthday presents, wedding presents, christening presents, you name the occasion, I am out there buying a gift. Scarcely a week goes by when I am not in a shop selecting something light (a lot of our presents need to be posted) but wonderful.

I buy sewing machines. A picture of the machine is below:

It may not be there forever as I think I only have a certain amount of space for pictures on 20six, so feast your eyes on it now, while it’s there. You will be relieved to hear that, in exchange for a well-spent tenner, the nice men who delivered it carted it up the stairs as well. I was round at the Glam Potter’s yesterday and she is very keen to inspect my purchase and will be over next week to admire. The Glam Potter is very arty and has sealed bids in auction houses all over Brussels. Her house is full of interesting things she has picked up in unusual places. I would like to go to an auction with her, but, you will recall, we don’t need any more furniture. I think Mr. Waffle may come over all Victorian and forbid me to fraternise with her futher if I start buying things at auction with her.

I cook, as discussed in an earlier posting. The other night I went into the kitchen saying “I’ll just check on dinner.. oh, doesn’t the sewing machine look nice in the hall?” Mr. Waffle asked “Are these words you ever, in your wildest dreams, thought that you would utter?” I must say, the answer to this is no.

Occasionally, I apply for jobs.

Often, I meet people for lunch. A friend said recently that when he hears the expression “ladies who lunch” he thinks of me. Hmm.

I wash clothes. This is a judgement on me. When I was growing up, my mother used to complain that I would throw things in the wash when I had only worn them for five minutes. I used to think, well what is the problem here, we have a washing machine… Now, everyday, I put on two washes and then bring them down to the basement to the drier and then put the clothes away. Now, ok, now, I’m sorry, that I was a stroppy teenager (I am reminded here of an Ogden Nash poem on adolesence, and if you click on this link, you too can read the poem). We are the grubbiest, or possibly, the cleanest, depending on how you look at it, family in Belgium. Every evening the laundry basket is empty. Every morning it is full to the brim. It is a cornucopia of dirty laundry, it never runs out. I’m thinking of buying a larger laundry basket.

Sometimes, I go to the art gallery.

I blog. I email. My emailing is not great though. My responses are usually deemed inadequate and far too short. I just can’t work up the enthusiasm for long emails. I tend to reply “yes” to two page missives and my correspondents get a little tetchy.

I mind the Princess.

I read, a bit.

I talk on the phone, although this has become more difficult since the Princess has discovered how to hang up the phone.

So now you know.

If you have not yet been the recipient of my largesse, hold your breath because, probably, even now, a tasteful, light gift is winging its way to you.