A friend came to visit
and to say goodbye to Melanie at the end of her recent trip here.
After the usual
hello’s we commented on how well she looked and she said “Oh it’s my new
eyelashes!”
Neither Melanie or I are
very girlie so this was quite amusing, but when she mentioned that she no longer
has to wear makeup our ears pricked up.
This was a time-saver so therefore justified girly-ness. Off we went, tongue-in-cheek, to get our new eyelashes and were very pleased with the outcome. We were
instructed that if we didn't use eye makeup remover or excessive amounts of
water that they would last three weeks - great!
The following Friday
(one week later) a removal company were coming to collect and return to the UK the
last remaining possessions of my darling sister which were boxed and in my
store room. She lived in South Africa with me for 7 years but died last May
leaving me devastated.
Everyone asked me if I was going to be OK with the task
in hand and my reply was “of course I am!”
Being a control freak I had to make sure
they got it right and took the right boxes, opening each box to check and then
repackage. All is going well until I open a box of her beautiful bed linen, of
which she was so proud, and had a complete emotional melt down, leaving the
poor guy who was packing totally confused as to what he had done so terribly wrong!
Having had a good cry and regained my composure (but losing several eye
lashes in the process) I went back and declared war on the store room. Then I invaded my
office which I blitzed. This is how I deal with any emotions which tend to get
out of control.
As my reward, and given
that I am now filthy dirty and exhausted, I decided to indulge myself with a
long soak in the bath. To help make sense of the next part of this saga I must
explain that my bathroom has a sunken bath in the corner and the windows run
from floor to ceiling giving me a clear view of the lakes. I don’t have any
privacy problems as I have no neighbours other than the Fish Eagles and if
anyone from the other side of the lake goes to the trouble of using binoculars to
peak at a sixty-something’s body, well then good luck to them!
The phone rings 5
times and each time I lose the call as the signal in my little corner is not so
good. Having given up on my relaxation it is time to get out of the bath when I
notice a troop of little men in green suits carrying tools over their shoulders,
looking rather like the seven dwarfs, come marching past my bathroom! I sink
under the water and wait a while.
They are gone so I try again, when another
little troop comes by and I sink back in the bath again.
This little dance continues four times more. Eventually I storm out of the bathroom (wrapped in bath robe) and I holler at them “who the hell are you and
what are you doing here?”
“We are from the Parks Board Ma'am and are spraying
aliens” (alien plants that is - not little blue men).
"Yes well you are supposed
to give notice and maintain the Fire Break but you haven’t been here for 10
years! Why did you have to choose today?"
Back to the bathroom
and I attempt to continue my body maintenance day and start to clean off my nail polish and makeup. This went well until I pick up the cotton pad soaked
in nail polish remover to remove my very smudgy mascara (bottom lashes). After
running around screaming with the pain I now have to wash out my eye with
copious amounts of water. What about my lovely new eyelashes? They must be sacrificed to
save my eyesight!
I book an appointment
with the beautician as I now only have one eyelash on my right eye and the
three on the left. "What have you been doing?" she asks. I tell her it is a long story
but I do tell her about my crying. "Oh no!" she says, very seriously “eyelashes
don’t like crying”.
Thank goodness I didn't tell her about the nail varnish remover!
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