wendy house

wendy: I’ve recently realised that I’m a cross-dresser

Spottydog: (laughs) are you serious? I’ve known that for ages!

wendy: well obviously I suspected, what with all the trousers and buying mens jumpers.  But I bought the jumpers because they’re virtually the same as the womens jumpers except they’re cheaper.  I thought I was just buying cheaper versions of girls clothes. But I’m not sure anymore. I think I might be a transvestite. Is a transvestite the same thing as a cross dresser?

Spottydog: does it matter?

wendy: well, I’d like to know what to say to people when I come out of the closet

Spottydog: you’re not in the closet

wendy: oh yeah…  ….do you like my new cricket jumper?  It’s to go with my kilt…

I like this haircut, it suits you

Hooray! All the comments about my hair to date have been observations and not value judgements. This was a cheering moment because my scatty memory has mislaid the source files to the last time that someone told me that my hair looked good. Of course, Spotty dog might have been refering to my Holly Golightly glasses without realising it. Either way, our day together turned into a right rollicking festival of mutal appreciation. Hoorah!

spotty dog: Nice jacket, Jack Wills?
wendy: yes, when I got back from the US I felt an overwhelming need to wear something fabulously british, this looked like a boating jacket
spotty dog: but you haven’t worn it since we arrived
wendy: its too hot in Italy, I’ll be fabulously British when we get back home

Someone told the Torino police that Spottydog and I were visiting for the weekend.  The welcoming committee waited for us and followed us on the local protest against education cuts.  Excellent hospitality.

I was impressed that so few police were supplied for so many protestors. I suspect the Italians are more vocal yet less disruptive than British protestors. 

What better place to plan a summer holiday than in a sunny Southsea Diner where the rockabillies are literally bouncing?  

After two cups of coffee I was also bouncing of the red plastic benches while spottydog calmly booked a hotel in downtown Turin.

The day after my outstandingly fabulous Birthday party:

Spotty dog:   last night you said you were going to give up drinking, become a vergetarian, start cooking and join a gym

Wendy:   gosh,   I was in a good mood,   you realise this is a progressive plan,   one thing at a time,   each is conditional upon achieving the step before,   do you want a glass of champers with the mister man cup cake?

A Sunday afternoon in Helston.

Spotty dog and I had confused Helston and Helford.   Thinking we were catching a bus to the seaside town of Helford we caught a bus to the inland town of Helston.   As we wandered through Helston looking for the coast we stumbled upon the town park.   A skateboard park with a coffee bar and dozens of fathers walking their children around the pond.   A veritable single-father-fest,   no-doubt influenced by the proximity of a substantial military base on the outskirts of town.

I managed to keep my eyes firmly on the duckies.

No dribbling.

In different Falmouth stores  Spotty dog and I simultaneously whipped out our new-fangled plastic cards to pay for lovely pressies.   Much to our suprise these words greeted us:

“we don’t take cards here, cash and cheques only’    

Neither of us use cheque-books.   We trundled off on a quest for  cash-points,     only to find that Brett couldn’t help us and we couldn’t have called him for help even if we had his number.   Tricky.

On a Falmouth  street an elderly gentleman caught me gazing into his front garden, admiring the plants.

He came out and apologised that his wife, who maintained the garden, wasn’t available to give me a tour of the tiny garden and name specific plants.

Spotty dog and I then accompanied him on his walk down a steep hill  to the dentist.   On the walk he told us how his house was once a Quaker school and brief histories of several other houses on the street.

Cornish folk are extremely personable.

The locals on Helston bowling green persistently tried to get Spotty dog and myself to join them because they needed what they called ‘young-blood’ especially that of  ladies.   Spotty dog and myself managed to escape with all  our own blood before the games ended

What is the best 45th birthday present for a Wendy?   A four day weekend in  Siena with spottydog as

• tour organiser.
• tour guide.  
• conversational sparring partner.  
• first-aid specialist,   she’ll have the plasters for when I fall-over, which she reliably informs me that I will, because I’ll be looking up at the architecture rather than at street-level obstacles.
• personal shopper,   because she has this uncanny  skill for inducing me to part with cash like no other person I have ever met.
• extended memory.

Excitedness levels have already reached amber.   Spotty dog has cunningly avoided booking through the recently defunct XL, travelling at ridiculous hours of the day,     waiting at transport interchanges for silly, silly, times and other such icky nonsense.

When spottydog visited the Wendy House I gave her a full 1 minute tour.   The full  1 mintue tour is the executive version of the 30 second tour.   It is akin to the  15 minute Hamlet only quicker  and with less literary credibility.   As audience, spottydog’s role was to  provide her unique insight into potential lifestyle developments.   Half way through the tour,   near the end:

Wendy:   this is my wardrobe (US = closet.   A closet is a  place where you keep skeletons, hence the title of this post)

Spottydog: that’s orderly

Wendy: its half empty

Spottydog:   its organised by colour and size,   even the shoes

Wendy:   Errrrrmmmmmmm…….     …is that bad?

Spottydog:   its not scatty

Lifestyle development suggestions involved, ‘open the beers’ and  ‘you need more plants’.   Spottydog, spot-on again.

SpottyDog,   a cheeky subversive cute gal phoned (6pm UK, 10am US) to remind me that

1. UK homosexuals can now marry.      
2. Mexico is sinking faster than Venice.    We need to vacation there or  Brighton UK, SOON.  
3. porridge, curry & blue cheese.  Spotty dog is white wine & curry.  
4. 1995 was an exceptional year (more a  book chapter than blog entry).  
5. SpottyDog gives first rate hugs

Bloomin’ fabulous fone-call