On Sunday

having got back from London on Saturday, I went to London. This time with the kids in tow and we stopped over at my friend A's house. A could very well be the nicest person in the entire world - and not just because she took 13 of us to Lapland for New Year, and is taking the same group to South Africa in October. But on Sunday she took us to the cinema in Lea Valley. Normally I would not have rushed to see a film the Daily Star gave 10 out of 10 to, but have to admit one would have to be very far up one's own arse indeed to fail to enjoy Hairspray. Mind you, from the trailer I saw, I won't be rushing to see Bratz - the Movie...there are limits beyond which I refuse to pass.

The next day we went to the zoo and saw the gorillas, and also saw a large python shed its skin which was fascinating in a 'Oh god how gross' kind of way. Then A took us all to a Spanish restaurant near Baker Street and I had one of those menu moments where you glance quickly through it, and basically have no idea what any of the dishes actually are, packed as they were with ingredients I had never heard of. Whatever - everything was delicious.

Back home again, and then out to Stamford to meet a friend who lives in Norway and who I had not seen for about five years. I knew she would be late. She is one of those people who is congenitally incapable of not being late, but her reason for being late this time was quite a good one. She rang as I arrived saying she was a bit delayed and was about 15 miles away*. "No problem" says I - but only because I have just seen another friend who didn't think she would be able to make it, waving to me. And how glad I am that Friend The Second did make it, or otherwise I would have sat for an hour in a bar on my own. Friend The First eventually arrives and there was a moment when FTS and I had to compose ourselves on account of the truly dreadful hairstyle FTF was sporting. Think blue rinse as once worn by old ladies, and replace the tight blue curls with tight red ones and you are on the right lines, although the true horror should best be left well alone.

So why was she late?

She HAD (apparently) been in plenty of time. But when driving through a village called Wainfleet - five miles out of Skegness - a backwater if ever there was one - she saw an old friend walking to work who had, according to FTF, a very nice hair cut. This reminded FTF that whilst in England she had intended to have her hair done and so she went to the hairdressers in this sleepy village...Yes, on her way to meet us, when she had something like 70 miles to drive, she went to have her hair done....at what appears to be, going by the evidence I have seen, The World's Worst Hairdressers. I will try not to be mortally offended by this. And she had it coloured as well as cut!!!!! This, for those men who may still be with me at this point does tend to take A Very Long Time. And when it even dawned on FTF that she really was going to be very late even by her standards, she left before they had finished it properly. Anyway, suffice to say it was a disastrous haircut, but FTF seemed really pleased with it, and FTS did manage to say "It's a nice colour" without blushing which was quite impressive. At least we now know how it is that FTF is always late for things.

* I suspect that line wasn't entirely true.