Sunday, 22 November 2015

Sunday Summary | best knocked back like a shot of Apple Sourz

Howdy, FOQ, hope we're all keeping warm!

How is it Sunday evening all over again?! How is it late November?! How is it nearly December?!


I'm afraid this week's Summary is ever so slightly less prosaic and poignant than last week's but please just sit back and enjoy it for what it is. It tries so hard, it really does. It just wants to be loved. As do we all.

---

This week, I have mostly been ...

Reading ...

... grown-up books again, and non-fiction to boot. Namely this one:


I'm trying not to get any ideas. Really I am.

But 11,000 miles along the Pacific Crest Trail? Pah. Easy. Could do it in a week.


... Said no sane person. Ever.

Watching

... The Coroner. Not because of its sterling performances, realistic dialogue and excellent attention to police procedural detail (pah -- OK, Claire Goose isn't bad, for someone whose surname is, well,

GOOSE.}
But because of the location.

Does this look familiar to you?

{Screengrab from The Coroner | BBC}
Waaaaait ...

I've only flippin' been there!


{In the very position occupied by La Goose! | Photo by Norgstar}
Why, yes, friends, The Coroner was filmed partly in and around Hope Cove, where me little Norgstar and I took our late-summer holidays (which you may remember from this colossal post way back in September-time).

Thankfully The Coroner is a daytime broadcast and not prime time, or HC would be swarming with tourists, and nobody wants that, but it's rather lovely to see this beautiful place on t'actual telly.

{Gif ripped lovingly from The Coroner | BBC}

Look! That there ... is here!


And Norgs and I only flippin' ate here as well!

{That'll be The Cove Cafe Bar, then! | Screengrab from The Coroner | BBC}
Ahem. Sorry. Got a bit overexcited there.

Still. If you're based in the UK with access to the BBC site and videos, have a look at this little teaser for optimal seaside-scenery ogling. (And no, I have not a scooby how to embed the tricksy little beggar.)

Writing


The end is (nearly) nigh, my friends: this time next weekend, I shall, I hope, be hurtling towards that magical 50,000 word target. And you know I'll hit it.

The last few hours may result in this sort of behaviour:


but what the hey. Who's to judge?

The current scores on the doors are as follows:

The Plan for Today (once I've done the sexy exciting ironing I decided not to bother with last Sunday -- I'm such a little rebel) is to hit that 40,000 word target.

(But not until I've posted and publicised this 'ere post, of course.)

And no, Jos, I still don't know why I give myself these pressures and deadlines. Pure madness, I tell thee. MADNESS.

Shoppin' and Droppin'*

On Monday night I rocked up to a superlative invite-only charity Ladies' Night held by the fabulous ladies of the Scope shop, Horley, notably my lovely Charlie. There were clothes to be rummaged through, Prosecco to be delicately soused on, hands to be massaged by Leonie (with scrummy Body Shop goodies), and nibbles to, er, nibble. And cake! Much of cake!


Oh but did I mention the clothes?! We tried, and we buyed. We trought and we bought.

(I'm going to stop there with that line of wordplay, I think.)

And the good ladies raised £250 for Scope in the one night, which was amazing! Such a great idea for an event especially near Christmas when we're all selling our thermals/internal organs on the internet for cash.

{Hmm ... ooh, black! Jos zones in from the sidelines |
Photo courtesy of visionsphotography.co.uk}
Plus I came away with a gorgeous little mint cardigan, a smashing pink blazer, and this year's Christmas party dress as cunningly pre-selected for me by Charlie and Jos.

{Don't be fooled by the heels ... | could barely flippin'
balance. But pretty dress, no? |
Photo courtesy of 
visionsphotography.co.uk}
Seriously, girls, you get me -- ya get me?

* I dropped my boulder-holder on the dressing room floor when getting changed (as apparently black sports bras and dresses don't go very well together -- who knew? Same with patterned socks and ballet pumps but that's one faux-pas I won't be making again for a while ... ;-)). Came out to show the assembled lovelies what I was trying on. Went back in. Boulder-holder went missing. 

Five minutes later it reappeared in the stock room.

You couldn't make it up.

Celebrating Jos' Birthday



Why yes, our fabulous Jos turned 21 all over again on Tuesday, so I headed on down to Horsham (which by the way looks extremely pretty at night -- will have to give it a proper look-over in daylight) to celebrate at the Buenos Aires Restaurant with the Gang: Ken, Amber and Finn, and Charlie and Al.

Oh and Jos too. She was there. ;-)

{Yay, birthday girl in a tiara, natch!}
And it was deliciosa. Sadly I was much too stuffed after empanadas (aka Argentinian pasties):

{#Don't cry for me, empanadas ...#}
and half a cow (BA specialises in all steak, all the time) to even contemplate dessert but the Disaronno-laced hot chocolate that the birthday girl had? That looked pretty good.

No idea where the Disaronno came from of course. No idea at all ...

Happy Birthday, Jos, you fabulous individual, you -- keep doing what you're doing:


Rockin' OUT

... to the phenomenal sound of Permageddon, 80s rock covers band.

{That's them, in the melee ...}
It was one of those "shall we? Eh, what the heck, yeah, let's!" decision-making moments for Natalie and me and I think we're both flippin' glad we went along. Our original plans for our evening in (sadly rare as they are, still) were to eat, drink, hang out and most likely take more selfies and other arbitrary photos, ahem:


{Er ...}
{What even ...?}
but aforementioned plans were slightly stymied when Natalie's phone did what Samsung Galaxies are often prone to do -- and conked out completely.

So out we did go to shake it off, Taylor-Swift-style.

Not only was it an excellent stress-relievin', head-bangin', generally fun night out, it was also an opportunity for Natalie to meet some of my Voicerox Lovelies-and-Friends (and the Lovelies-and-Friends to meet Natalie).

Of course, the poor lass was utterly bereft without her phone #RIPGalaxy so being the good friend I am, I lent her mine to play with all night. Which might explain all the selfies and the random shots of the door to the Gents' toilets that I found on there today.

Natalie ... ????

In residence last evening were Jos, Paul, Pete, and Rebecca who'd invited us to the gig in the first place -- so for that we thank her muchly even though we failed to get a good photo of her!


{:-)} 



And a random young-Danny-Dyer-look-alike (or so I'm told):


We definitely missed Charlie, though -- maybe next time, chick?

Anyway. I think they all got along OK:

{Natalie tries to educate young Paul in the Art of the Selfie}
{When friend-worlds collide ... but in a good way!}
Oh, and yes:

Thanks for noticing! ;-)

After much of Malibu ('er) and wine (me) and a shot of Apple Sourz which may or may not have been the best decision ever made all night (me and 'er), we were feeling decidedly gentle today. Need arose for a fry-up. Because, well, it's tradition now. Like chips in the bus stop, which also happened.


{Isn't she gorgeous?!}
Pinterest Pin of the Week


{Aw, snap ...}

(Bi-) Weekly Web Finds



  • Swimalator | When a swim team gets bored at the airport, this happens -- it's brilliant! | via Facebook | Video credit: Kelsi Worrell




{via here}
  • If you need a good weep (and sometimes you just do):

look no further than the Sainsbury's Mog's Christmas Calamity advert (which has propelled the excellent Judith Kerr back up the UK book charts): 


and the John Lewis Man on the Moon advert which is so painfully close to the bone that you can't watch it without feeling awfully sad about the state of the world.



And finally, I leave you with this because it's Sunday and I can.


Have good weeks.

qb xx

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