Castanets and thongs

Now, you may not think these two items bear any relationship to each other but they do ... they both have strings! ta-daaaaaa.
Right, I'm back from the evening's 'do' which was a very nice party celebrating the Purves' family occasion of John's 20th birthday, Helen's 22nd birthday and graduation and Titan's 30th birthday (is that the tortoise?) and 20 years of Yaz, the lady wot 'does'. Patrick bbq'd a mean slice or 3 of Haloumi (however it's spelled) and great for veggie's who only eat greens cos they think they ought but don't mind a bit of burger fat on the grill.
When I tried to replicate this delicacy on my mini barbie, a .... what they called, chiminera (???) help me out here .... it was just a dried up bit of ol' cheese. Patrick has it down to a fine art. But then he's an artist when he's not our local eccentric solicitor. (bless! x)
I'm drinking a cup of tea (2nd home made since I got back but Peter did make me two cups so really they're my third and fourth but there's nothing quite like your OWN cuppa) alongside a Cointreau, trying to replicate that which I was served in Bieniarbieg (well, something like that) in Spain. I think I should have served myself about 6 more fingers to do that properly though.
I'm all over the place here, cos there's not really anywhere to start. Except, maybe at the beginning?
it's a very good place to start. When you count you begin with 1, 2 3, when you sing you begin with doh rey meeeeeee.
Dang, that's what happens when you're named after Julie Andrews!
When I was born .... settle down at the back, there's a story here ... (not much of one) ... at 6am or some unearthly hour, my daddy rushed off to the registrar to let the world that I had arrived and to tell him I was to be Julie Ann ... The Registrar, bless, asked if that was Ann with an e. So daddy belted back home again and was told YES, of course it's with an e. So my birth certificate has me as Julie Ann (all joined up) with an e tacked on at the end. I rather like that story. It's almost as good as the one he told me about my being conceived in a field on a lovely sunny summer's day. He pointed the field out to me a little while before he died. Have I told you that already?
I think my conception whereabouts and whatabouts says a lot about me. Of course, the fact I'm an Aquarian says the rest.
Soooo. Where was I?
Oh yes. Last Saturday evening I had a couple of social pix jobs and dolled myself up and dashed off to the golf club to take pix of the Louth Golf Club 40th anniversary. It's a feeling of being always the bridesmaid and never the bride, or cinderella who didn't get to the ball. Ya dress up to fit in but nevertheless dont. Particularly since most people are in pairs. But I have my trusty camera, sigh ...
Anyway, afterwards there was a charity bbq at Coun Marris's gaff (erstwhile Mayor) which was in aid of the Louth Hospital Scanner appeal. It had been siling it down and the field behind his house was the parking place and since I arrived as almost the last guest (I did pay!!!) I slipped and slided all over the place and did consider turning right around and going immediately home but that seemed a tad wimpish so I stayed for the barbie and a drink and took some piccies and then it dawned on me that most people there, TOO, were in pairs and I got a bit sorta lump in the throat when Sophie Lowe (beautiful young songstress) sang something about 'lurv' so I hied me off home and thought it just as well anyway cos the really slippy bit of the field was very close to a 45 deg incline which ended in the stream and I reckoned if anyone was going to end up in it, it was likely to be me.
It wasn't ... but I wasn't around the next day to hear if anyone else did!
Sunday I dashed off for Stansted and decided to take the route a pal takes which she said it quick. It added 15 mins to my journey. THEN an accident on the motorway added another 15 mins. How can a caravan being trailed by a car end up totally facing the wrong direction??
I had time for a quickie ... cup of tea ... shame on you ... before hurling luggage into Peter's car and off we zoomed to the airport.
I thought I'd sleep on the flight to Valencia since I'd worked til quite late the night before but I was seated next to a very interesting young lady and she pulled faces as she talked just like Victoria (sorry, sweetheart! xxx) which fascinated and I was going to ask her if she was any relation to my daughter but then I figured that I'd know the answer to that better than she would!
This is going to be a long one. I could stop now and serialise it but I may have lost the flow, if there is one, if I do that.
Pete (another one, and Pete to distinguish from Peter) awaiting my arrival, punctually and off we then zoomed to Denia where the Moors and Christians parade was being held. It was actually the first of two nights. We caught the tail end with a few piccies and I was introduced to Pete's friends, all of whom are very lovely and made me most welcome.
Back at the Ranch (villa) I probably snored my head off ... well, pete said I snored so loudly he had to close his bedroom door (but that was the night I got smashed out of my mind, accidentally) and Peter said last night he heard me snoring, too, but only when he stood on the landing. pardon??? Peter, you should have gone to bed instead of standing on the landing! But I was very very tired so that's my excuse for that night.
Victoria has told me I snore. Though she wears ear plugs (that's every night, not just when she sleeps with me), one morning I awoke to find she had vacated the matriarchal bed to sleep on the sofa in the sitting room.
I've now got me a humungous hangup about snoring!!!!
I'm sure I only do it on special occasions.
How the hell can I ever find me a 'partner' if I snore????
I'll have to doctor his drinks each night so he's out like a light! But what's the use of that??? Ahem?
So.
I do have to say in my defence that Victoria, when she was living in studio type accommodate also turned the fridge off each night and put the alarm clock outside her door!
Where was I?
In Spain.
OK.
So the morning arrived, sunny and lovely and the pool was sparkling and I had to have a dip of course.
I wanted to tan and had taken along a bikini, which I very quickly got fed up of, cos the bottoms were too big, i.e. not enuf skin exposure for my tan, so substituted for a thong thing.
Which wasn't much more than a triangle with strings I spose. And didn't bother with a top cos I'm naturist and with a thong was already overdressed.
I didn't think to ask if this was OK. Cos it was OK with me so sorta assumed it was ok with everyone else.
Not to say I'd got walking naked down a street and think that was OK. Well, I would, but others may not, so I do have a little bit of sense.
On a good day.
So I met Sandy, the community President, and Dickey, Sue's husband. And they didnt' seem to mind my appearance. Which is to say they didn't run off flapping their pinnies over their heads (Translation ... pinny = apron)
The next day I decided I needed an inflatable and Angela suggested one like an armchair. Which is fine for tanning the front side but I capsized when I tried to turn over on it in the middle of the pool and I can't say it was very elegantly done.
So I tried to get on it from the pool steps and there's a knack to getting on lilos, y'know.
And I made friends with 7 year old Charlotte and she wantedto help me on the lilo but it was right by her grandad and her dad and there's me in a thong with a small string and she was steadying the lilo so my bum'd have been right in their faces and sorta stretching your little leggies as wide as they'll go to get over a lilo just aint a pretty sight really (depending on yer proclivities)so I tried to manoeuver the lilo so I was facing the guys, that way they only had a pair of pendulous dugs to contend with.
I'm not exactly selling myself here, am I???
I'm not going to give you lock stock and barrel of the visit but it was enjoyable. Pete was a splendid host, his friends were forebearing and looked interested and aghast in all the right places at my tales and no one fell asleep.
I got sozzled out of my brain on Wednesday night. Don't know whre that came from. I can only blame the third Cointreau from the village bar which was (the drink) extraordinarily generous and makes you wish they DID use measures cos then you actually know how much you're drinking.
If people put the drink in the glass first and THEN added the ice would also be a good clue but ice first and then the booze you really have NO chance!
In the English bar in Denia the guy did that for me with whiskey and told me when to stop. I was still wondering if he meant it while he was pouring and so questionned what he'd said and he yet continued pouring and then told me not to blame him if I went home sozzled.
Well, I suppose no one held a gun to my head and said 'drink'.
Went to Benidorm Palace on Thurs evening and saw a great show. It was only marred by those people popping off shots with flash when photography was forbidden. A guy close by was doing it furtively (photographing) and I just wanted to go slap his legs for being naughty! partly out of spoiling the show for others, something I'm well aware of as a photographer .... good, no bolt of lightening from the Gods when I describe myself as such ... and partly cos I was jealous and such a bloddy goodie two shoes in obeying the rules that I hadn't taken my camera so I couldn't do it furtively as well and my conscience wouldn't have allowed me to anyway!
Of course, when the bare breasted ladies appeared the flashes were many. I mean of the cameras, not the boobies. But the boobies were, too.
Oh, one great was when the guys removed their trousers revealing that they were wearing black stockins and white y fronts. I reckon every woman with a bloke in tow rushed out the next day to buy white Y fronts!!! They just HAVE to be back in fashion after that event!
I think 90% of the guys who were in tow turned to their partners and explained it's quality that counts, really, not quantity. cough.
So I'm back home and Pete attended the community party and I asked if there's been a ban on topless thong wearing but apparently not. In fact, the president's wife thinks I'm great. I didn't actually get to meet the lady but apparently after encountering Sandy in my sunbathing gear he went home with a woodie so she's well pleased with me!
Now if only I could have that effect on ..........
Back in Blighty, as instructed, I texted Pete when I was in the hall to pick up baggage. Except we had the wrong leaves on the line for our plane's luggage and 50 mins later Malaga arrivees had collected their luggage but Valencia was still waiting for theirs and I'm getting texts and calls from Peter ... WHERE ARE YOU BO??? Oh, I'm Bo to Peter. Which is short for Featherboa. Another story another day.
He cooked a delicious evening meal and massaged my tootsies. Ohhhhhhh, I do like having my feet rubbed.
He made breakfast, too. I declined a Full English and opted for muesli and he even poured the milk on it. Except I wasn't aware of that so 10 mins later it was already expanding and twice as much cereal as started off in the bowl.
Back home I just got to the Louth Flower and Veg show in time to get the winners and have a lovely pic of Barbara Dales and Dave Fairburn with their leeks. They're like david and goliath. I'll post a pic later.
Then this evening's shindig.
I popped my castanets in my handbag ... the way you do ... so I could be part of the musical entertainment.
I don't think Amazing Grace had been done with castanets before. Nor will it ever be again??
Jobs tomorrow but I haven't actually looked in my diary and suppose I must to see what time to start but it's been an action packed almost week and I've met some lovely people who have put up with my idiosynchrises, been very kind and very generous. I've got an invitation to t'vicar's birthday party next Friday and another to a dinner on 30th September unless they sober up and remember they invited me!
I still haven't decided what granny name I'm to be called ... Tora asked. And it's great that she's now asking all those questions that women who've had babies want to tell but no one is ever interested in hearing about!!! Yayyyyyyyyyy
Oh ... and it's great to come home and pooh on your own toilet!
Stop laughing!