fudge

Monday, 12 August 2013

WTF Are You DOING SD??

WTF are you DOING SD I hissed in his ear as he set off across the marquee at a gallop dragging me in his wake.

There's supposed to be a fast bit here he said sounding a little perplexed - no there isnt - yes there is - no there isn't - IS - no there fucking ISN'T - yes there IS - it goes: Da, da, dadada, diddle dee da da he crooned tunelessly in my ear.

Maybe it's now he said tightening his grip and thundering in the opposite direction warbling a little louder.

I gave up protesting.  By now we were the centre of attention anyway and short of punching him there was no getting away.

Rockin' Ricky carried on strumming  Elvis or Tom Jones or whatever the hell it was that he was singing and we continued to crash around like out of control cart horses.

SD's enthusiasm is pretty unstoppable after a few beers.  The other night he said, with some satisfaction, I might have bought you that car you like.

WTF SD???

For those of you who don't know - I DON'T DRIVE!!

We went to a classic car meet the other day and, out of all the Frazer Nashes, Aston Martins, Bentleys etc, the car that really caught my eye was the Messerschmitt.

SD had been surfing Ebay after a few drinks and stumbled across a Hudson kit car and asked me what I thought.  Very nice I said and thought no more about it until SD woke me up several hours later to tell me he'd left a bid on it.

WTF SD???

I'm fairly sure he had been influenced by Miss Mac telling him about a film she'd watched with her friend called 'The Human Centipede' (sounds like a horrible film where some weird guy sews people together, don't watch it!).

If galloping around a tent in the middle of a field serenaded by an aging Elvis impersonator watched by a crowd of bikers, low riders and farmers wearing wellies wasn't bad enough he now wanted me to ride him piggy back (which is the only way two people fit in that thing) around town WHERE PEOPLE KNOW ME with my knees jammed in his ears in something the shape and size a liquorice comfit (remember them??).

So, what else have I been up to .....  Well, this weekend specifically I've spent in a field with a couple of thousand other people (who were mostly not galloping or riding each other piggy back but who were mostly drunk at some point).  The sun shone, I singed the bits of my boobs that had so far escaped being singed, Miss Mac broke another deck chair - seriously, that girls a liability, I've no idea how she does it, she's a slim little thing with a penchant for landing flat on her backside in a pool of canvas in front of a crowd of people -

I don't know WHERE she gets it from!

I also learned that, in addition to not understanding that 'very nice' does NOT mean 'please buy me' SD doesn't understand women's clothing.  I made the mistake of asking him to do up the ties on the halter top I wanted to wear - he pulled the damned thing SO tight my chest shot up and smacked me in the face (which was on it way down) and left rope burns around my neck!

We took Maudie the Monza with us - I luff Maudie - she's a tiny retro (Miss Mac says old and tatty) caravan for Miss Mac and her friend to sleep in and so that we had somewhere to make coffee and cook breakfast etc.  We'd never used the fridge before and, to be honest, SD and I are both a bit cowardly when it comes to gas.  I've just about mastered lighting the rings on the hob but lighting the grill scares the shit out of me.  Like I said, Maudie is retro which means no ignition switch so you either have to use matches or get one of those ignition thingies (which I did).  I turn the gas on and while it's hissing like mad I wildly wave this thing about clicking it like mad totally convinced I'm going to blow us all to fuck in a great big fire ball!

The fridge is three way and, with no hook ups in the middle of a field and not wanting to run the battery down, we decided to switch it to gas.

I'll go outside and turn on the gas - you push that button to switch the fridge over and push the ignition said SD.

WTF???

Why do YOU get to be the one outside while I'm inside blowing us up?

We had a short and very terse conversation and then I took up my position, bum in the air, head on the floor, one hand on the gas the other on the ignition switch and GO!!!  Shouted SD - I start randomly pushing buttons - Is it lit?  shouted SD - I don't know!!! - Is the pilot light on???  I don't KNOW!!!  Sarah - is there a fucking flame or NOT???

I got up and ran away ....

I do love our weekends away - SD spends his time gossiping and making new friends networking - I spend my time singing my boobs and worrying about blowing us up - Miss Mac spends her time breaking deck chairs and rummaging the retro clothing stalls - it's a slightly bohemian way of life and I do sometime look wistfully at the photos my friends post on FB of their exotic holidays in 5 star luxury but then I wonder ...  do they laugh until they cry on a daily basis?  Do they hang out with a laid back crowd chewing the cud as they drink beer in the sun and singe their boobs?  Do they feel totally relaxed, completely content and so happy just being with the people they love?

I really hope so but I know I wouldn't swap what I have for anything.

6 comments:

joeh said...

I think you should have your own reality TV show.

Sarah said...

Lol Joe - I dread to think what would happen if you pointed a camera in my direction ;-)

Feisty Cat said...

And that is why I avoid camping. Too many dangerous activities.

Seriously, other than the singed boobs, it sounds near perfect, Sarah.


Sarah said...

It's a jungle out there FC (well, there was a field full of cows near us anyway ...) - fortunatly the boob singedge was minimal and it was a pretty near perfect weekend :-)

Lisa lybliss said...

Laughing! - I've never visited you before - had to go back to the start and re-read it once I figured out that SD was not a horse.
I think the idea of camping and hanging out in such bohemian style sounds gorgeous. Here is Australia we seem to spend most of our evenings by the camp fire swatting mosquitoes and drinking lukewarm beer. Nothing delightfully bohemian about that.
xx

Sarah said...

Lisa, how did I miss replying to your comment! Thank you lovely and I hope you pop by again soon xx