I’ve been given a task for son’s wedding, ribbons and balloons. I’m really excited and flying in there with my usual, initial, enthusiasm. The ribbons for the balloons have already been ordered and I’m just waiting for a reply from soon-to-be DIL about whether they want ordinary plastic weights or little boxes. I’ve decided that it will be more economical to buy a helium cylinder and fill the balloons myself, and easier as I can blow them up at the venue rather than have to drive there with a car full of air-filled, might explode balloons. Now I’m just musing upon the ribbons for the decorations, organza wired or just easy-pull, organza would look prettier but rely upon my creative skills, have to practice methinks. I would love to be artistic but cross-stitch is really as far as it goes, I suppose my efforts at cake decoration would count but school really stopped my creative flow.
In the dim and distant past my school made you choose between art and domestic science or physics and chemistry. You could only pick p & c if you were getting the right grades, unfortunately I was plus I was better, and safer at the sciences than the creative stuff. Cooking was always quite exciting as you could never be quite sure how something would turn-out, nothing has really changed there and I like to blame an intolerant D.S teacher for that! Art was a subject I loved. Okay, so the lino printing was dangerous as I could never seem to stop the gouger from doing it’s job, only not on the lino, on my hand but I just enjoyed being allowed to experiment with so many wonderful materials. Anyway, my choice of subjects was decided for me and at first I had to limit my experimentation to carefully controlled potions in the lab. My parents, I think hoping to encourage me in my sciences, provided me with my own chemistry set, complete with one of those burners full of methylated spirits. I used to have such fun distilling potions, burning magnesium tape, making potassium permanganate solutions and then reducing them back again the salts, but after the episode when I became distracted by a phone-call, and set fire to my pin board, and then an admission to hospital to have my eyes washed out following an accident with the KMn04 (it turns the whites of your eyes brown), I was banished to the garage and the following winter saw my enthusiasm for home experimentation disappear. Just think, if I had been allowed to follow my heart I could now be the second Nigella or Tracey.
Still on the wedding theme, I’m off next week to begin the search for that perfect outfit. You know, the one that will camouflage the Rubenesque quality of my physique, highlight the colour of my eyes and make me look 6″ taller. I have this feeling I may be unsuccessful unless I lower my parameters.