On being thrown under a bus

 Dear Marmite

I promise you this doesn't happen for real. It is an expression that means the blame for a disaster is put on your shoulders. Just like Kamikwasi Kwarteng our late and not particularly great chancellor, I was thrown under a bus this week. This was not an unceremonial sacking for doing exactly what the PM wanted by tanking the economy. It was death by a thousand whatsapp messages by my quiz team - only joking guys -  and I thoroughly desrved it. It was a crucial question which, if wrong, lost us 15 points and first place. The question had to do with Rosa Parks and 2857. I promise I won't forget that answer in a hurry. But, to be fair, I did know it all happened before I was born which none of the rest knew. Ha!

Other blips in my week include another skin cancer removal. I expect to look like a Swiss Cheese before too long. I have to say the doctor was lovely and it was all relatively painless - thank goodness. THe biggest downside is not being able to swim for a week. 

There were nice things in my week. I went to Grand Designs in Birmingham with Jeremy and Diane. I haven't quite decided on the final layout for my ideal home - again this is a dream -  but there were some nice things there. I particularly liked the natural wood and coloured resin tables but at the price they were, I will stick with my current one. I also rather liked a bed that changed shape and massaged you vigorously. Now that is something I would be willing to trade up to. I had to apologise to the salesman who I accidentally kicked in the nether regions while testing the bed. That, Marmite, is an entirely other story!

Jeremy and Diane then treated me to a play in London too. Upstart Crow is a part panto- part farce - with a smidgeon of Shakespeare for good measure. I am still chuckling which means it must have been funny and very British. Although a strangley odd thing happened to me as I was waiting for the loo in the interval. The lady waiting behind me in the queue told me how you really needed to know Shakespeare to be able to appreciate the story implying that I knew diddly squat. I probably just look DUH! I look like I don't know the difference between Lady Macbeth and a Merry wife -obviously.

I also took in the sights. A  trip from Covent Garden through Chinatown to Regent Street took me down memory lane. It was Mid Autumn festival here too.

So, back to the quiz night. The quiz master asked if I was on the Victoria Line last Tuesday. Having got a crucial question wrong, I hesitated. The correct answer was YES! He was in the same carriage but didn't say anything to me as he was a tad drunk and not entirely sure it was me. Small world, eh? 9 million people in London and I am spotted on the tube at 11pm.

I must remember to blend into the background more. It is so much better for a quiet existence....

Hope you are doing alright. 

Love you as always. Hugs

XXX