Thursday, 9 February 2012

Shoe polish and surf boards

I have discovered shoe polish! I had no idea that the experience of shining a shoe could be so therapeutic and gratifying. Last week, a pair of my shoes (with me inside) fell through an icy puddle, and ended up in a hideous pile of yellow-brown mud. I washed the shoes in a bucket of water, left them on a radiator, and thought they were entirely ruined. They were covered in water marks and scuffed to buggery. Three coats of polish and a bit of elbow grease later and they’re gleaming like the most expensive pair of shoes ever made. I’m now going to polish every pair of shoes I own. I only own three pairs, so it won’t take very long. The rest have fallen apart, because all my shoes fall apart... That said, now that I polish them, maybe they won’t... Hmmm

I am thrilled to report that my cousin, Matt, and his wonderful wife, Boo have decided to invest in the requiem. I was incredibly touched, and the news means we’re now we’re at the £3,000 mark – an eighth of the way towards our target.
Ooh, ooh - five minutes after writing this, I received an email to say that we've had another £1,000 pledge. So the requiometer now looks like this...

I was in the post office today, sending more letters to potential investors. The man in the queue in front of me was posting an enormous parcel to Cornwall. Now, sometimes I don’t actually know why I open my mouth. I’m usually incredibly shy, but occasionally it occurs to me to say something to a stranger, and before I’ve thought about it, the words are tumbling out of my mouth. Now, bearing in mind that the package the man was sending was probably less than a 40 centimetres long, can anyone tell me why I asked; “what’s that? A surf board?” The man with the package simply stared at me, astonished. I suppose it didn’t occur to him that I associate Cornwall with surfing. Why would it? The package looked nothing like a surf board and it was none of my business what it was anyway. I felt my face redden as the man with the package laughed in a mixture of confusion and politeness and the person behind the counter simply looked the other way. It was mortifying. I will never address a stranger again! I must learn from these hideous experiences.

A short entry from Pepys on this date, 350 years ago. He spent the day in bed, taking “phsysique” and doing a bit of composition. At one point he promised his wife 20l to spend on clothes for Easter. He would no doubt live to regret the decision. Pepys didn’t like spending money. Not one bit.

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