Being Me

In a rush this morning, I left home without having had breakfast. But I pass a bakery on my way to work.

Today, there was a display of fresh-baked pastries in the window: almond croissants, apricot croissants, pain au chocolat, cinnamon whirls, all with that come-hither look in their eyes, like the pastry equivalents of George Clooney or Johnny Depp (the difference being that I've never been allowed to bite either George or Johnny).

I said to myself, 'Fran. Resist. Walk straight on. You know you said you were determined to -'

I interrupted myself, saying, 'Not listening. Not listening. Not listening.' And dashed into the shop before I could reply.

'What can I get you?' the shop assistant asked.

'Can you get me a body like Cara Delavigne's?' I said.

'We have none in stock, I'm afraid,' she said.

'In which case, I'll have three of those almond pastries and give up the fight,' I said.

Actually, that conversation didn't h…

Some universal truths

1. Disturbances to your radio or TV reception only happen at key cliffhanger moments, not in adverts.

2. Only the newest and best china mugs get dropped. The chipped ones hang on for Armageddon.

3. When your friend is 39, you will remember the birthday and send the card in time. When the friend is 40, their birthday will be on a Monday and you will remember on post-free Sunday.

4. When you need three eggs for a cake, you will find two in the box, which is even more annoying than none.

5. Your neighbour will go to Spain for a week, leaving their unadjusted alarm clock due to beep at seven for an hour, the same week you decide on a staycation.



6. If you only need to buy a tin of sweetcorn or one carrot, the queue will be forty-strong.

7. Soup lands on freshly-laundered white shirts. It will always be tomato.

8. You will always be three seconds away from the bus stop when the bus moves off without you, and waving, so that everyone in the bus can see.

9. Your flu bou…

I bought some jars of pickles at our local Leamington Spa Food Festival last week. I felt obliged after I'd tasted all thirty-seven samples. Eventually, I had to stop sampling.  There are only so many 'I-may-buy-this-one' faces one can make and, anyway, the queue behind me stretched back to the M40 and held up traffic.



The full-size jars cost as much as it would to go and pick my own mangoes in Malaysia, so I opted for a set of four mini-jars costing a fiver.

I bought these flavours:

Lime Pickle Beer and Honey Mustard Mango Chutney Spicy Tomato Chutney
All I can tell you is that the lime pickle is very tasty and goes well with cold meat. I almost didn't get to find that out, because the lid took ten minutes to prise off and when it did finally come free, it was with such force that I nearly lime-pickled the dining room walls. We've been talking about redecorating, but were thinking more Ivory Cream or Pale Gold than Accidental Chutney.
As for the other three jars, …

I was in Marks and Spencer today at the pay counter. At the next till stood a female customer and her little girl of about four.

In clear, carry-across-the-shop-to-the-other-side piping tones, the little girl said, 'Mummy, Mummy. Which bra are you wearing today?'

The mother was cool personified. She bent down to the child, whispering, 'It's the green one, darling. Now, sssh.' Then the mother turned to the assistant and said, 'That was a bit embarrassing. Sorry.'

'I was only checking,' said the child, who sounded most peeved to be shushed. I bet she was thinking, 'Next time, I'll ask about the knickers and see how she likes that.'

Of course, being British, every one of us - sales assistants and customers alike - looked straight ahead, searched in our pockets or checked our phones to prove we hadn't heard. That's why I'm writing about it here. That kind of suppression isn't healthy.

It reminded me of several incidents when …