Saturday, 18 February 2012

Fuel door


Fuel door

Yesterday I went to spend time with my big sis and youngest nephew after her hand op, we had a bit of a Whitney sing along sesh and as my nephew was in a cuddly mood I got lots of snuggles.  I then made myself look like a completely helpless woman on the petrol forecourt when I couldn’t open the fuel door on my hire car, glad to say when I asked the guy behind me he couldn’t do it either.  He was cute, could have asked for his number but the fact he couldn’t open the fuel door doesn’t bode well for his usefulness as a potential hubby! It turned out to be a good thing as whist I was figuring it out my other sister pulled up with my nephews and niece so I got to have a quick hug before the drive home and the company of another adult made my fuel door dilemma less embarrassing.


Today one bin bag later and the room is finally tidy… progress!  Another three bin bags and I should have cleared some of the clutter from my kitchen and bathroom too.  It’s amazing how much things you can gather up over the years and there is always a reason not to throw something away.  Came across a useless bit of blue tat whilst clearing up but couldn’t get rid of it because it reminded me of our holiday to Egypt, what a sentimental woman I am.


I got my car back today in working order and they had repaired the bumper, I thought they would just spray the part the van hit but on closer inspection they had done the whole thing, gone was the huge gash on my bumper I had made when driving home from an argument with ‘stickman’s’ brother because of ‘stickman’.   Another reminder of him erased from sight but the important memories never go… the universe works in mysterious ways.

Watching Whitney’s funeral, will do my best not to cry.
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