In fact
today has been a far better day than many over the past period.
No, I have
not found the diamond that has disappeared from my wedding ring – but I still
look, everywhere. Due to other more
urgent matters the repair/replacement of the ring has been put on hold until
Monday when it will have to be my priority Number 1.
I find it
deeply disconcerting for me to not be wearing my wedding ring. Not only do I feel terribly disloyal to Tony
for not having it on my finger, but it is a constant reminder to me of what
love and marriage meant to us and while I have neither anymore, just having the
ring constantly on my finger gives me a sense of emotional security. It constantly reminds me of what a treasured
life I did once live. Unlike many people
I like to look back to the past, especially the happy past I have had, for it
is reflecting back there that gives a sense that the past was not wasted, most
particularly because I made someone so happy.
Today
though, the ring had to take a back seat, had much to do and little time to do
it.
In amongst the busy day though, I
found I had won $36 on last week’s Lotto.
Sure, it was not the millions, but that is irrelevant, what is relevant
is that I won $36.00. Enough to put a
smile on my face for a while.
And as all
good Lotto winnings should do – most of it went straight back into more Lotto
tickets – in the hope of actually winning something greater than $36.00. If I do, I shall not let you know. If I don’t, I probably will.
Another
good part of my day is I finally got my new bike shoes and pedals fitted on my
bike. That was a hugely exciting interval
this afternoon, having the new pedals put on the bike, sliding my feet into my
new shoes and test driving the freshly polished bicycle.
To some
that would seem rather sad, my excitement at new bike shoes, it probably
is. I don’t care. It excited me.
The day has
since concluded with a most pleasant early dinner out with three cheerful and
chipper lady friends; the dinner being
the prelude to the evening as when finished we walked to the Vector Arena where
Dolly Parton would entertain us for over 2½ hours.
I confess
to being somewhat apprehensive as to what the greater audience would be like.
Aging country fans dressed in country gear, Texan hats and boots and all. Or aging aged, dressed in their knitted
cardies and comfy shoes, coming to relive the past, the long distant past, for
that is after all, where Dolly comes from.
By her own
admission it is 30 years since she was last in New Zealand. I knew that, because my sons told me
that. When I informed them, rather
sheepishly, that I was going to the Dolly Parton concert they happily informed
me the very first concert they had ever been to was when I took them to see
Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers, 30 years ago.
I had
completely forgotten that fact from my past and was truly impressed at what a
nice mother I must have been to have taken two teenage boys to a live concert,
to a Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers live concert. What lucky teenage boys they were.
Tonight I
had envisaged the high possibility that my friends and I would be the
youngsters in the audience. Obviously I
would have been the oldest of the youngsters, but would still have the pleasure
of being younger than most others in the audience. But not quite so.
Yes, there
were Texan hats and knitted cardies and comfy shoes – but so many of them were
on the heads, bodies and feet of young people.
Young as in late teens, twenties and early thirties. This was a surprise. I would have thought their generation would
have skipped Dolly totally. But not
accordingly to the annoyingly, irritating and rude quintet of wine swilling twenty-year
old girls sitting behind us who talked through almost all the first half and
tipping the wine over the chap sitting next to me throughout the second half.
As an
aside, the silly man. It took him three
lots of wine sloshing over his head before he finally turned and complained to
the low-level IQ’d screamers behind.
Silly man.
Well, Dolly
was truly the show woman to top most show woman. She may be collecting the pension now but she’s
spending it cleverly in ensuring her figure remains as it was 30 years ago and
in keeping that voice toned and tuned to be as good as it ever was.
She
connected with the audience – well at least the screeching quintet behind us
told us she did – she talked almost as much as she sang and was clearly
enjoying herself in delivering what the audience had hoped to get.
She belted
out old and new songs. Melodies and
country. Played more musical instruments than you could imagine, including a
small “sexaphone” and danced constantly on precarious high heels than not even
the screeching girls could possibly balance on.
It was many
months ago, sometime last year, that our own little quartet decided to make a
girls night out with Dolly. I confess to
being reticent initially, solely due to the dollar value the night would cost,
but tossed practicality aside and thought “bugger it, I’ll go.”
Probably one of the better decisions I had
made in my annus horribilis.
Thanks K,
V, P. Thanks lots.
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