"Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it." Greg Anderson
Easy for him to say! All he ever has to do is wash and shave. That's because he's a man.

My journey starts with the FIRST BLOG; you'll need coffee/tea and probably some chocolate digestives, or maybe some Cadbury's Fruit and Nut, or Green and Black's Organic if you've got more money than sense.

Monday, 6 June 2011

Whhooaahh! Hold your fondue set!

So, this person had been pursuing me for some time – I knew it was hopeless though - nothing in his profile had given me any cause to salivate - and I hadn’t given him any encouragement whatsoever. He was five years older, so within my age range, and sounded as if he wasn’t strapped for cash, possibly even a little plummy. Polite refusals hadn't worked - he’d got a bee in his bonnet (me) and wasn't going to give in. Finally, essentially to convince him, I agreed to a phone call.

Him: You sound quite intelligent from your profile.
Me: Thank you.
Him: Do you like cooking?
Me: No, my profile quite clearly states I do not like cooking. I dreamt up healthy, nourishing meals -- always from scratch -- for 25 years on a daily basis, and it no longer gives me any thrills. On the other hand, I enjoy eating. And I enjoy feeding.
Him: What does that mean?
Me: It means I enjoy people coming to my house to eat. I look in the cupboards and fridge, see what’s available, throw things together, put whatever emerges down in front of them and tell them to tuck in. I don’t like following recipes.
Him: Hmm. Well, maybe that won’t be a problem because I can cook.  But, you do cook, don’t you?
Me: Yes, I do. But I would always rather be the sous chef these days. 
Him: And you seem to have many interests, so presumably you can hold your own in most situations.
Me: On the whole, I don’t have many problems.
Him: Hmm. Yes, I suspect you are more intelligent than me.
Me: I really don’t know and can’t say.
Him: Yes, I think you are. Pauses as if in thought. I think you’d probably make a very good hostess. You’d be able to maintain conversations. And talk to people on any topic, I should think.

Eh? Poor deluded man – how the hell did he work that out? The older I get, I’ve discovered, the less I know about anything whatsoever. Huge wads of stuff completely passed me by while I was being a mother of young children; I expect there was the odd war or something. Did anything happen in the early 90s that didn't involve poo or Lego? Must google! On the plus side, I can quote Cat in the Hat verbatim - not sure that would be of any use to anyone these days, particularly in a dinner party setting.  

But – hey there! Wait a minute!


A very good hostess?

That nearly passed me by. A very good hostess?

So, the person he is looking for must be a very good hostess. For his dinner parties. For his friends, colleagues, acquaintances – whoever. Don your pinny and make sure everybody’s glass is full.

FFFs! This is not in my master plan! Do I want that to be on my Bucket List? And on my death bed, seconds away from the final croak, surrounded by my super family, friends and followers, do I want to look back and leave them with nothing but this to ponder for the rest of their lives, ‘Oh yes, my dears, je ne regrette rien. I was, after all, a very good hostess.’

I think not!

Is it an age thing I wonder? I later asked a very lovely friend who's forty and also single what his requirements were as far as a relationship was now concerned. It took him precisely two seconds to reply. "Fun," he said. From being a pleasant looking kind of guy he miraculously transformed himself into the most gorgeous male I'd ever laid eyes on.

Which makes me wonder... I am looking at the wrong age group altogether?


*wanders off mumbling and grumbling ‘A hostess... Meh! Ridiculous… Granny Clampett, maybe… Jessica Rabbit, maybe…* 


Downith said...

Love the je ne regrette rien bit in particular.

D said...

Why do I get these images in my head of groups of women at one end of the living room, martini glasses in hand, bouffant hairdos and stilletos, men at the other end of the room, cigarettes in hand, slapping each other on the back and laughing loudly, Alma Cogan and Frankie Laine crooning in the background... and in the middle, a huge teak dining table laden with cheese balls, canapes, cocktail sausages and pickles. Shades of our parents' parties? Smacks too much of Mad Men! (You do get that program on your side of the pond, don't you?)
Your Spidey Sense is working fine, my dear. Cross this one off the list... carry on regardless.

Cousin Bette said...

Hey D, Did you click into the link for Is this really me? I nearly wet myself laughing while watching that. Feel blessed to have found it! Was Fanny part of the Canadian culinary scenery in those days?

Cousin Bette said...

Downith - do you have a fondue set though? Mine ended up going to the charity shop. Are you familiar with Fanny Craddock in the 'Is this really me?' link?

D said...

With some relief I can happily announce, dear Fanny wasn't trending in Canada (what a horrid woman!). But we did have our culinary contessas here... a favourite was Jehanne Benoit... a teenie tiny, roly poly French Canadian who was even more popular with the Anglos than her own linguistic seperatists. Jehanne's accent was what won her over with the maudit anglais... stereotypical Francophone accent... sort of like Julia Child if she'd swallowed a whole pot of poutine. Anyway I digress... best impersonation of FC I ever saw was Honor Blackman on an episode of New Tricks! Right down to the stiff jaw and broom up the arse!

Cousin Bette said...

D - La Salade de Jehanne Benoit -I've just youtubed her. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uThAy2AjNek

I actually didn't know that salads had to be demonstrated!
Not a patch on our dear Fanny though! Not enough lipstick. Do frites also have to be cooked twice?