Well, after our shows at the week-end, Andrew and I were looking forward to resting a little and getting some of those long overdue jobs completed – you know, the little things you neglect until they can’t possibly go unnoticed any longer. Like nasal hair removal, shaving one’s intimate places and, of course, clearing out the kitchen cupboards.
Sadly none of these petty chores have been possible so far.
Instead, Andrew is busy painting in his studio – like a manic Matisse, preparing for an art show at which he is exhibiting on Wednesday and I have been forced to take to my sick bed after developing a severe case of ’man flu’ !
( I looked up the definition)
A cold or similar major ailment as experienced by an extremely, gifted,
artistic man who is just a little sensitive to criticism’.
(Well, that’s what it said in my dictionary!)
An ailment, which I am sure was passed on to me by a rather noxious, upmarket know-all at our show on Saturday evening.
The said posh pollutant beckoned me to her table, and after presenting me with an unnecessarily, wet, over-familiar, kiss, launched into an unflattering critique of a previous performance of ours she had once witnessed.
It’s always the bitch with the ‘crit’ that is so full of shit!
And now the contaminated cow has passed it on to me – I can only hope she goes down with it even harder – although, judging by her imperious manner, I doubt whether ‘going down’ is in her repertoire.
I could kill her – just look at the state I’m in!
Laying here, surrounded by ungents and potions that seem to be having no effect whatsoever, other than on my wallet!
‘Night nurse’ – more like a night curse!
I thought this health kick we are both on would get us fit – instead I feel like I’m about to have one!
The comprehensive, and may I add, rather expensive, shopping trip I embarked on last week at, shall we say, a very well known health food store, in Gibraltar, has done me no favours whatsoever.
I purchased every super-food, super- grain, super-seed and super-nut going – our kitchen currently resembles a super-spoilt budgie’s cage!
Now, laying here, feeling as though death is skulking just around the corner, scythe at the ready with all this grain lurking about, I’m beginning to think this health lark may all be a load of old Goji berries!
I’m sure I’d feel better with ’Stollen & Claret’ rather than ‘Holland & Barrett’ !
Along with my shamless self-pity, I have the added annoyance of old ‘Andy Van Gogh’ in his studio next door.
Huffing, puffing, scraping, brushing (not to mention knocking the easel flying on more than one clattering occasion!). At times, it is hard to imagine what he is doing ensconsed, so audibly, in his little den of oil and acrylic?
But I do know if he wakes me one more time, it won’t be his ear that gets excised!
I do realise that I posess the patience of Fern Britten at a free buffet at the moment and I really should try and calm down – after all, my beautiful partner is making wonderful works of art, whilst all I’m acheiving is the odd mournful fart! Another state of affairs, no doubt caused by all this virtous living and an overdose of Brassica!
One that was intended to shorten and alleviate the effects of influenza.
Three hours later, after imbibing the truly vile bile, I feel more like ‘Stevenson’s Rocket’, with any energy that this concoction has given me puffing rather powerfully and pungently from my rear carraige!
I’ve always disliked Wyoming – not that I’ve ever visited!
I have a feeling my old pal’s recipe for ‘Chicken Soup’ that I knocked up yesterday is doing me more good than any of the bird and rabbit food I’ve been ingesting.
‘Jewish Penicillin’ as it is known – it’s definitely doing the trick – and tastes better too.
Or so Andrew tells me, as at present, I have no taste – although, I am aware I have my detractors, some of whom would maintain that this is not just a temporary malady! Much like that charming lady critic in the audience on Saturday evening!
Still, one positive act to engage in, whilst on one’s back and not capable of engaging in the other, is reading.
I have now had the time to peruse the whole of the ‘Nutibullet’ instruction manual from start to finish – twice!
I finally feel I have, at last, grasped the benefits of this machine to a greater degree.
One very useful piece of information I have gleaned is never to put apple seeds into the device – as when blended at such a fierce rate they produce that infamous little potion – known as Cyanide!
Now that fruitful piece of knowledge has done wonders for my brain chemistry.
Next time I spot the aforementioned poisonous woman at one of our shows – the Costa Del Sol’s answer to Dorothy Parker – I may just have to make a poetic ‘bee-line’ towards her – a la Ms Parker…..
And if she starts, to completely criticise,
Her glass I’ll fill, discreetly with ‘appletise’.
Home-made, of course!
Cheerio – or should I say, pip-pip!