A Dead Skunk Or Perhaps It Was A Cat

I definitely deserved the damn fine weekend I've just enjoyed - for I had a tough week before it. There was the odd weepy moment. My tears fell for the passing of Christopher Reeve, a severely delayed reaction that, and some dead skunk in the middle of the road. The only person who got a new handbag was Bert's Aunt Liz-Ard - she thought my purple suede one the business so I allowed her to copy me. As well as shopping for handbags, Lizzer and I also shopped for alcohol. Chardonnay for me, rum for Bertie Boy and Bacardi Breezers for Lizzer*. She'd never tried it but I told her she'd love it what with her sweet tooth.

The rest of Saturday was socialising with Swisser and others. It was a pity that John the Hat dented the side of Bert's van while moving the PA stuff to Ghillie's. A pity for him as Bert didn't give a flying fuck what with all the scrapes and dents I've added to it over the years. Later we went down to Ghillie's to hear the lad's play and I for one had a damned good evening.

Perhaps just feeling the tiniest bit fragile on Sunday morning but no matter. It didn't stop the First Daughter and I heading to the Farmer's Market in Templepatrick. Also there were Matty, the Second Sister, the Baby Brother and his beloved. He's a tough looking mother for a Baby Brother is J. Got a big thick doorman's neck (for that is his other job) and doesn't look unlike Johnny Adair but with a sweeter expression. There was a slightly embarrassing incident at the Market for which Z has claimed copyright as she was the one who got traumatised. Afterwards Z and I went for coffee and some light shopping. I only bought a pizza wheel, so light I could carry it in one hand.

*Liz-Ard - she's the one with the dog and without the grim expresion in Boho Chic.