Afternoon tea at the Ritz

Well folks it's all okay, I am still in existence! HAve had a few technological hiccups recently, including lack of access to this here Internet....

I'm back in the library this glorious morning, sun shining, crisply cold and my Darling Daughter and The Boy are, apparently, hot footing it toward the library to see what keeps good old Nanna here for a whole hour at a time. Well it took me 18 mins to get into the new version of Blogger so they might see a deranged granny spitting at a computer.......

Thought I'd let yall know how things have been.

The Military Tour went....well.... not well exactly.....more like it just went!

Recap, 3 Womans Institute (WI) Country Craft Markets happening on same morning with 15 minute gap between each start.

I arrived at Karen H's in the Tiny Weeny Little Red Hire Car ( TWLRHcar) ((sold my car to travel to US, keep up, keep up!)) in track suit and Merrills with my plan. KAren H appeared at the door with comfy shoes as instructed and a loose fitting jacket, for all that elbow room. Suspect it was also to provide movement around the bandage applied after yesterday's debacle.....

'Okay our strategy is clear; Dorking first at 10am, park in Waitrose (supermarket) at the rear. We race in, scan the room, buy quickly and leave, drive the 6 or 7 miles through country roads and infamous 'black spot' dual carriageways to get to Bookham by 10.15am. Get there in time to queue up and get £5 ($10) from the Change Lady, race straight to the flowers and vegetable section, scout around then jump in car and race off to the Leatherhead market for 10.30am, covering 2/3 miles on windy narrow country lanes, heading straight to the cake stall.'

'Mmmm'

'Okay with that?'

'erm, yes, yes.'

'Great, jump in.'

'Mmmm, it'll be great.'

'Now, we haven't got any time to dawdle'.

'Mmm, great......'

Anyone who knows me, knows that dawdling is my forte, getting places on time, remembering dates (yes yes CJ) is, well, not! The drive to Dorking is not without small distractions; elderly senile drivers (ESD's) changing lanes with no signal, ESD's driving in 2 lanes at once, ESD's driving through red traffic lights. ESD's full stop! We arrive at Waitrose car park and there is a queue to get in. Blast. This is NOT on the plan. We get to the front of the queue within 1 minute, still okay for time.

'We can make it up inside I'm sure'

'uuuuh, really??'

I ignore Karen H's waivering, we WILL achieve this.....

Mop Haired Young Car Park Attendant (MHYCPA) raises his hand imperiously so we see his palm, indicating I presume we stay still.

I smile.

I smile and hope that The Boy doesn't grow up to be a Car Park Attendant.....

I spy an empty space and gesticulate to MHYCPA.

MHYCPA ignores this and keeps his hand up. I suspect that MHYCPA has smoked so much marijuana he is on a different planet let alone time zone.....

I frantically wave my arms and hands in the direction of the vacant space. It's no good the vacant brain is unable to activate. I put the car in first gear and move forward. MHYCPA moves forward.

'OMIGOD don't kill him'

'Thats a little dramatic don't you think? He's so stoned he only thinks he's reached the car to stop us...'

'This'd better be worth it...'

I silently agree......

We get out the car and run past MHYCPA

'We're only supposed to park here if we go into Waitrose'

'Relax we'll be 5 minutes'

Dorking WI CCM has 2 rooms. Impressive so far. we go through the first room where the tea and coffee's are being made. I notice they give a little fairy cake with the biscuit as we rush through to the main room. Dorking is a large town and I have high hopes for local produce here. We stop dead in our tracks, the room is big, very big and there are 3 tables dotted around with hardly any produce. What on earth is going on??!

Then it hits us

The rancid smell of stale urine......

We hold our breath and run like the wind; past the veg stall with bunches of yellowing leeks, past the cake stall with rows and rows of flat rock cakes, past the knitwear stall with mittens and bedsocks made up with multicoloured remnants of old yarns, past MHYCPA whose hand is still erect and into the TWLRHcar and drive like the wind to Bookham our second stop.

We are in and out of Bookham WI CCM with hardly any note. No cut flowers, obvious at this time of year I guess but I had wondered if someone might try a little arty combination of twigs, shrubbery and the like.

We are doing well for time.

As we drive down the hill on the outskirts of Leatherhead town, we point out, as always, Michael Caine's primary residence. We giggle to each other, from this position it looks exactly like Tesco supermarket on the other side of town. Ugly, really ugly.

Suddenly a Volvo estate overtakes me and the car in front. You know what they say about Volvo drivers...... Karen H tells me it's Someone Or Another (SOA) ((the name doesn't stay in my head)) and she's off to the Leatherhead WI CCM. Blimey she drives like a nutter and I bet she'll be all sweetness and light when i see her.

We get there at 10.23am, it's okay as we can still pick up a chicken, eggs and a packet of fairy cakes. Phew.....

'Right I'll get the tea, what biscuit do you want?'

'Hmmmm, let me think. Mmmm. Not sure. what do they have?' I say loudly

'Well you remember' says Karen H quietly through gritted teeth

'No I don't, can you tell me?!'

'Fine'

said with narrowed eyes....

'Custard creams, Bourbon, Malted Milk and Garibaldi'.

'Oh, no digestives??!'

'yessss, do you want one?'

'No thank you'

'Fine.'

'No I'll have a Custard Cream....

I hear a funny noise coming from Karen H.......

Having secured a corner of a large table (I'm learning fast) by placing bags on 2 seats I sat down as Karen H languished over the plant stall. SOA thuds a book down on the table on the spot I'd reserved for Karen H as she goes off to get a tea. Ah ha! A confrontation.
I move the book .
SOA comes back.
I look up and smile.
SOA goes to speak.
I still smile.
SOA falters.
I look away.
SOA takes her book and wanders off muttering.

Suddenly grey haired elderly ladies talk to me.

I have been accepted!

I am giddy with the excitement of it all. Karen H comes and sits down having witnessed the momentous event from the back of the hall. SOA is apparently a rude and bossy lady that instills fear into the throng of little old ladies. I have seen them at the cake stall at opening time and i'm not sure I can agree with that!

Enjoying my new elevated status I decide to try out dnr's suggestions. There is after all a couple of gentlemen in the hall. I lean into the small hard backed chair with an air of French sultry decadence. Picking up my custard cream I gently part the biscuuit revealing the soft cream inside. Bowing my head slightly I begin to delicately lick the cream raising my eyes every so often towards the Distinguished Gentleman on the table next to me. I am a vixen. A sexual being. I am Angelina Jolie, Madame Bouvary, all women.......

'What the hell are you doing?!'

'Erm dunno, dunno'.

'Well pack it in you've got crumbs all over your chin'

'Shit'

'I've got a baby wipe in my bag'

I bend down and fumble in Karen H's bag, I take out the packet of wipes, put them on the table as I flick back my hair. Unfortunately SOA is walking past and I knock her book out of her hand as I flick my hair, the baby wipes fly across the table and knocks over Karen H's tea.

I cringe.

Karen H glowers at me.

Distinguished Gentleman (DG) picks up her book, places it in her open hands with a twinkly smile. SOA smiles back.

Damn SOA.

DG turns to me.

'Are you okay my dear you look like you were having difficulty with your biscuit'

WHAT?

'No I'm fine, thank you'

'Shall we go?'

'Absolutely'

You know next week? I'm not sure I want to stop for a cup of tea.........