Posted by: okathleen | February 10, 2009


It’s a funny old world.

Very drole indeed. HaHaHaHa. 

I haven’t entered into very much correspondence with my blog over the last few days. 

No time. No time to say hello goodbye.

Working backwards from today. Honed and polished writing about Fry and Form.
Spent too long at the building site that is my house, trying to referee between the plasterer and the spark, before the War of the Claw Hammer happened all over my devastated parquet flooring. Continued my role as United Nations Ambassador to Builders as the Chippie gave me a 35 minute rundown of what was wrong with the newly delivered staircase, and how long it was going to take him, ie. how much it was going to cost me to put it right.



The carpenter/joiner/chippie intrigues me. His entire outlook is negative. From his gloomy, grumpy face in repose, to his stooped shoulders and monotone monologues. 

He greets me every day with – do you want the bad news or the really bad news?

But. But, in his spare time, when he isn’t in training for the Moaning Olympics, the joiner is a DJ and Children’s Party Entertainer. 


He is a cross between the Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and Eeyore.


But he says he’s fully booked until next year…. caveat emptor.

Then it was over to Donna in Northern Moor.

My hair – desperate – and Donna does what Donna does best. I am now starting to believe that her Hair Salon is actually a drop in centre for either the Homeless of South Manchester or the local Care in the Community loners.

Tales of Hen Party stiletto fights and her drunken father’s brawls kept the gallery entertained all morning.

I asked her about wedding hair.

Back to yesterday. Sunday and it starts to sink in. The black pearl ring lit by a dazzle of diamonds is there to remind me. 

Back to Saturday. My mum asks Eli – are you sure? My dad bursts into tears.

Back to Friday. Charles tells me he is chuffed I am no longer on the shelf.

Back to Friday morning. 

Eli asks me to marry him. Would you, would you? He says Dutchly. 

Will you, will you dontcha mean – I say stunned.



  1. Congratulations: perhaps Mr Eeyore could be the celebrant……

  2. congratulations! i’m a sucker for sappy ol’ love stories!

  3. My sympathies with you entirely with regard builders. We converted a barn into our house 10 years ago and it was hell trying to negotiate with builders. Much worse than raising children which is ironic because that’s the way many of our builders behaved.

  4. my wife has had her own run ins and outs with contractors and hired handy men…

  5. Well. Congratulations and good luck. Ring sounds lovely.
    As for the chippie: I actually had a stylist who owned her own Salon and drove a new red Porche. She constantly told me, with a dreary frown, how broke she was: talking a trip to California wine country but couldn’t bring any home – not enough money. Talking a class in London but couldn’t go shopping – not enough money. Boo hoo.
    Then I would hand her the $120, and I am sure she laughed all the way to the bank which her husband was vice president.
    It’s just a cover – so you don’t know how rich he really is.

  6. Well I have to say I am really touched by your kind words and good wishes.
    Still a bit shocked/overwhelmed… Keep the last weekend in September free!

    Unless by then we are agreeing with Billy Connolly:

    ‘Marriage is a wonderful invention; but then again, so is a bicycle repair kit.’

  7. I am always impressed by those who are brave enough to marry. Me? What the hell would the woman in black wear to a wedding?

  8. I’m Married to the Contractor. Not unlike Married to the Mob – but he also cooks.

  9. Is the Contractor a Building Contractor?
    If so, what advice to a frustrated, irked customer?

    A Cooking Contractor is definitely the way forward Frank!

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