In the long slow tarting up of our flat, we have cleared our small balcony and I have re-planted the planters. Sounds simple but I have the opposite of a green finger - probably a black one. All plants in my care die. It's been less than a week and the violas are looking sickly, the lavender shows signs of queasiness and only the cosmos looks okay. And even then, some of the leaves are dying. P helpfully suggested plastic flowers. No. Obv. I think I have to have temporary flowers and keep replanting and slaughtering fresh victims.
What I really need to do is sort out my clothes. I have a LOT of clothes - and yet I reckon only about 2% actually fit me. I have some nice things, surprisingly. Surprising because I pretty much buy everything from ebay. It seems pointless spending money on clothes - firstly because I am ever hopeful that I will lose weight (HA!) and secondly because, well, lipstick on a pig. If I ever get back in my 16s, I will have a whole wardrobe.
This weekend we have guests coming. Conservative eating guests. We're doing Italian as I know they like that (they don't like Thai! Who doesn't like Thai?!). Antipasti including homemade caponata, meatball lasagne with tricolore salad and tiramisu (because P loves it and I hardly ever make it). Almost embarrassingly easy. I had a stern injunction not to put too much pressure on myself and because time will be tight, I have heeded it. But I still feel almost furtive about the lack of finesse and effort (look away Seren! This is not the calibre of food of chez Seren)
And now, on to an update. Firstly, thank you all for your comments - I appreciated every one and it made me feel less alone to an extent I can't properly exress. I think the main things that I will take away from them is 1) Amy and I should clearly swop husbands (although 2 clingy people in one marriage might be a recipe for disaster), 2) Yes to the flouncing - but the circumstances have to be right. We talked about his behaviour and he took responsibility for being horrible. I didn't talk about my feeling that he doesn't love me; I am pretty sure he thinks he does and it would be pretty patronising to insist otherwise. In fact, he said he did and he said he couldn't understand why I needed to be kept being told I was a 'worthwhile' person when I so clearly was. This is quite effusive for him.