Oh, hello again. So lovely to have you back. I do hope you'll bear with me. I'm afraid this is all very daunting. I haven't written a diary since I was a little girl. I looked at it recently, all those seven-year-old hopes and dreams for the future - to win a Nobel Prize, to be the first woman on the moon, to beat David Essex at Buckaroo . .
Of course, as you know, I achieved all of those things but my greatest wish, like so many little girls, was to be married. Not just to anyone, but to someone tall, handsome and erudite. Perhaps a writer, an actor, a comedian even? Someone with a kind heart and a penchant for the finer things in life. And, after all these years, here I am - married to a philandering, 5 foot 6 inch window cleaner with a monster truck season ticket and a pigeon.
Having said that, my Stephen does have a great imagination (I believe the medical profession has an altogether longer name for it). He imagines he's on Top Gear, he imagines he's written several books (which also involves him imagining he can write) and only recently he imagined he was in Germany, Switzerland, Russia and Austria - the last being particularly wearing as he insisted our children wear curtains and perform puppet shows throughout.
Anyway, back to this diary. As a young girl, I kept my diary religiously, faithfully adding an entry each day, no matter how mundane. If I quickly flick through to this week all those years ago, I can give you an example. Ah, here we are . . .
Monday: Played on my bike.
Tuesday: Sugar Puffs for breakfast.
Wednesday: Funny Uncle Derek came to visit.
Thursday: Funny Uncle Derek let us play with his chihuahua.
Friday: A policeman came to visit Funny Uncle Derek.
Saturday: We all went to visit Funny Uncle Derek. For ten minutes.
Sunday: Found out two things today. 1. A chihuahua is actually a breed of dog. 2. Why everyone calls Uncle Derek funny.
Ah . . . that takes me back. Such a happy time and I hope to share these and other moments in this diary - my highs, my lows and all my messy bits in the middle, interspersed with general views on life, some of my world famous recipes and possibly one or two little secrets about my Stephen.
I do hope you'll enjoy reading these ramblings ( thank you for your encouraging comments so far, by the way ). If you do, please tell your friends to join us. I have enough hobnobs for everyone. I shall try to post a new entry as often as I can, but I'm sure you'll understand the pressures of having such a demanding husband.
Cheerio for now,
love Edna x
Monday, 6 July 2009
Oh, hello again. So lovely to have you back. I do hope you'll bear with me. I'm afraid this is all very daunting. I haven't written a diary since I was a little girl. I looked at it recently, all those seven-year-old hopes and dreams for the future - to win a Nobel Prize, to be the first woman on the moon, to beat David Essex at Buckaroo . .
Of course, as you know, I achieved all of those things but my greatest wish, like so many little girls, was to be married. Not just to anyone, but to someone tall, handsome and erudite. Perhaps a writer, an actor, a comedian even? Someone with a kind heart and a penchant for the finer things in life. And, after all these years, here I am - married to a philandering, 5 foot 6 inch window cleaner with a monster truck season ticket and a pigeon.
Having said that, my Stephen does have a great imagination (I believe the medical profession has an altogether longer name for it). He imagines he's on Top Gear, he imagines he's written several books (which also involves him imagining he can write) and only recently he imagined he was in Germany, Switzerland, Russia and Austria - the last being particularly wearing as he insisted our children wear curtains and perform puppet shows throughout.
Anyway, back to this diary. As a young girl, I kept my diary religiously, faithfully adding an entry each day, no matter how mundane. If I quickly flick through to this week all those years ago, I can give you an example. Ah, here we are . . .
Monday: Played on my bike.
Tuesday: Sugar Puffs for breakfast.
Wednesday: Funny Uncle Derek came to visit.
Thursday: Funny Uncle Derek let us play with his chihuahua.
Friday: A policeman came to visit Funny Uncle Derek.
Saturday: We all went to visit Funny Uncle Derek. For ten minutes.
Sunday: Found out two things today. 1. A chihuahua is actually a breed of dog. 2. Why everyone calls Uncle Derek funny.
Ah . . . that takes me back. Such a happy time and I hope to share these and other moments in this diary - my highs, my lows and all my messy bits in the middle, interspersed with general views on life, some of my world famous recipes and possibly one or two little secrets about my Stephen.
I do hope you'll enjoy reading these ramblings ( thank you for your encouraging comments so far, by the way ). If you do, please tell your friends to join us. I have enough hobnobs for everyone. I shall try to post a new entry as often as I can, but I'm sure you'll understand the pressures of having such a demanding husband.
Cheerio for now,
love Edna x
Of course, as you know, I achieved all of those things but my greatest wish, like so many little girls, was to be married. Not just to anyone, but to someone tall, handsome and erudite. Perhaps a writer, an actor, a comedian even? Someone with a kind heart and a penchant for the finer things in life. And, after all these years, here I am - married to a philandering, 5 foot 6 inch window cleaner with a monster truck season ticket and a pigeon.
Having said that, my Stephen does have a great imagination (I believe the medical profession has an altogether longer name for it). He imagines he's on Top Gear, he imagines he's written several books (which also involves him imagining he can write) and only recently he imagined he was in Germany, Switzerland, Russia and Austria - the last being particularly wearing as he insisted our children wear curtains and perform puppet shows throughout.
Anyway, back to this diary. As a young girl, I kept my diary religiously, faithfully adding an entry each day, no matter how mundane. If I quickly flick through to this week all those years ago, I can give you an example. Ah, here we are . . .
Monday: Played on my bike.
Tuesday: Sugar Puffs for breakfast.
Wednesday: Funny Uncle Derek came to visit.
Thursday: Funny Uncle Derek let us play with his chihuahua.
Friday: A policeman came to visit Funny Uncle Derek.
Saturday: We all went to visit Funny Uncle Derek. For ten minutes.
Sunday: Found out two things today. 1. A chihuahua is actually a breed of dog. 2. Why everyone calls Uncle Derek funny.
Ah . . . that takes me back. Such a happy time and I hope to share these and other moments in this diary - my highs, my lows and all my messy bits in the middle, interspersed with general views on life, some of my world famous recipes and possibly one or two little secrets about my Stephen.
I do hope you'll enjoy reading these ramblings ( thank you for your encouraging comments so far, by the way ). If you do, please tell your friends to join us. I have enough hobnobs for everyone. I shall try to post a new entry as often as I can, but I'm sure you'll understand the pressures of having such a demanding husband.
Cheerio for now,
love Edna x
20 comments:
Anonymous6 July 2009 at 15:25aka rowemag: Ah - Funny Uncle Derek. "Even the tiniest ... Chihuahua is still a wolf at heart."
ReplyDelete- Anonymous6 July 2009 at 15:59
I have the same entries in my diary - we had the same childhood!!
ReplyDelete 
Hoping one day you’ll find someone erudite, rather than merely rude, my dear. Looking forward to hearing more about your highs, lows and ALL the messy bits in the middle, a Jammy Dodger, perhaps.
ReplyDelete
Hi, Mrs. F.! Trying to comment via Google led me through random blog names I took on years ago and clever passwords that outwitted no-one but myself. I feel as though I've been trapped in Stephen's brain.
ReplyDeleteThe answer to your life was simple, and yet you tossed it all away like yesterdays fish and chips. Edna,you know who I'm talking about dear. Hugh. You knew he loved you and yet you pushed him away.
ReplyDelete
Stephen did have his charms, I admit. His charming taste in scarves. His love of snooker, his large cricket bat.
However,Hugh was the one. The one you let get away.
As always, I'm here for you no matter how badly and irretrievably you screw your life up. That's what friends are for after all, isn't it.
-JenniferThank God I never had a Funny Uncle Anyone. I've turned out nearly normal. Really. That's what my head doc says anyway, xx
ReplyDelete- AHisme7 July 2009 at 17:49
Wow.Your first name.
ReplyDelete
I haven't been this excited since a few hours ago when I found out that Captain Jack Harkness has a grandchild. :) Two questions for you, Mrs. F. - did you have any playmates when you were a little girl, and have you been invited to a Queen's garden party this year?
ReplyDeleteMrs. F,
ReplyDelete
Ah you're Edna too!? What a lovely name.
My favourite aunt also had the same name. Unfortunately she passed away 3 years ago due to breast cancer...
Hmm anyway, have you met your other name-twin Dame Edna Everage?
Darling Aunt Edna: I need some tips about how to handle "demanding husbands". And I'm so excited that there's no word limit restraining ur ramblings here on blogger! :)Happy blogging. Cheers!
ReplyDelete
- Bounderberry11 July 2009 at 08:08
I had an uncle like that, he was a scoutmaster before he joined the priesthood.
ReplyDelete Isn't that 6 foot 5 inch, rather than '5 foot 6 inch'. Or maybe its a completely different Stephen Fry?
ReplyDelete
Fascinating all the same ;P
- Anonymous17 July 2009 at 01:29
What an admirable woman you are!...if you ever need to talk, a kind ear to listen please dont make it mine as I am always busy.x
ReplyDelete
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Joyous ;)
ReplyDeleteaka rowemag: Ah - Funny Uncle Derek. "Even the tiniest ... Chihuahua is still a wolf at heart."
ReplyDeleteI have the same entries in my diary - we had the same childhood!!
ReplyDeleteHoping one day you’ll find someone erudite, rather than merely rude, my dear. Looking forward to hearing more about your highs, lows and ALL the messy bits in the middle, a Jammy Dodger, perhaps.
ReplyDeleteThankyou, Mrs. F. It works.
ReplyDeleteHi, Mrs. F.! Trying to comment via Google led me through random blog names I took on years ago and clever passwords that outwitted no-one but myself. I feel as though I've been trapped in Stephen's brain.
ReplyDeleteThe answer to your life was simple, and yet you tossed it all away like yesterdays fish and chips. Edna,you know who I'm talking about dear. Hugh. You knew he loved you and yet you pushed him away.
ReplyDeleteStephen did have his charms, I admit. His charming taste in scarves. His love of snooker, his large cricket bat.
However,Hugh was the one. The one you let get away.
As always, I'm here for you no matter how badly and irretrievably you screw your life up. That's what friends are for after all, isn't it.
-Jennifer
Thank God I never had a Funny Uncle Anyone. I've turned out nearly normal. Really. That's what my head doc says anyway, xx
ReplyDeleteWow.Your first name.
ReplyDeleteI haven't been this excited since a few hours ago when I found out that Captain Jack Harkness has a grandchild. :)
Two questions for you, Mrs. F. - did you have any playmates when you were a little girl, and have you been invited to a Queen's garden party this year?
ReplyDeleteMrs. F,
ReplyDeleteAh you're Edna too!? What a lovely name.
My favourite aunt also had the same name. Unfortunately she passed away 3 years ago due to breast cancer...
Hmm anyway, have you met your other name-twin Dame Edna Everage?
You need one more child to make the kids dress up in curtains
ReplyDeleteAline - that's a good one.
ReplyDeleteDarling Aunt Edna: I need some tips about how to handle "demanding husbands". And I'm so excited that there's no word limit restraining ur ramblings here on blogger! :)Happy blogging. Cheers!
ReplyDeleteWelcome to blogland! I await your diary entries with baited breath!
ReplyDeleteI had an uncle like that, he was a scoutmaster before he joined the priesthood.
ReplyDeleteIsn't that 6 foot 5 inch, rather than '5 foot 6 inch'. Or maybe its a completely different Stephen Fry?
ReplyDeleteFascinating all the same ;P
ah, who can forget edna and the fish problem of which we used to speak long ago.
ReplyDeleteI admire your loyalty to an obvious beast. You deserve a gold medal.
ReplyDeleteWhat an admirable woman you are!...if you ever need to talk, a kind ear to listen please dont make it mine as I am always busy.x
ReplyDelete