Back to black

So whilst the sickness has not abated yet, the impressive weight loss has ceased: 1.5lb off last week, 1lb this week.  This is unimpressive given the level of general vomminess I’ve experience (yes, that’s a word.  Look, the language evolves all the time, alright?).  So in summary: huge amounts of weight to lose, high level of vomminess, trickle of weight loss.  Sigh.  It doesn’t help that pretty much all I can stomach at peak vom is bread.  Or toast.  Or a pretzel.  Maybe when I feel a little better, I can ditch all the carbs again and that will have an effect.

In the meantime, we had my father-in-law’s funeral.  It was grim.  My husband’s niece was sobbing before we got in and continued throughout the eulogy she delivered.  In general it was a particularly tearful event.  As is tradition really.  The ‘wake’ bit afterwards was much jollier and P has an enormous family of many cousins who it was nice to see.  I looked like a bag-lady/Duracell battery.  I do not wear black except for at funerals and choir performances and it does not suit me.  I look a mess in general but when you factor in a colour which drains me and scrabbling round for an outfit which ‘will do’ on ebay, I felt like an absolute mess. 

I’m not sure if it was this that has pushed me into my ‘I’m so hideous I shouldn’t be allowed out in public’ phases.  I’m pretty shallow if that’s what I take away from a funeral. 

And in fact that’s not what I’ve taken away:

a)     Get as much out of life as you can, you never know when it’s taken away

b)     Extreme love and anxiety for P

c)      Remembering how much I like some of his family (who mostly clearly think I’m absurdly posh (I’m not) but are generously friendly anyway)

d)     Chose songs people know

e)     And okay, get something better if you have to wear black if you don’t want to feel more like a bag-lady than normal

We had an hilarious moment when the first hymn which my MIL insists on telling me is in the Top 10 of hymns (yes, just think on that for a moment) was clearly known by no-one so everyone just sang at different speeds and to varying tunes.  I could see people trying very hard not to laugh.  P later compared it to the ‘Lovely Horse’ sketch on Father Ted but in fairness, it was less tuneful.  My FIL would have been beside himself with mirth.

It’s my choir’s performance on Saturday and although the music is lovely, we’re woefully under-rehearsed: I’m hoping it’s not going to be Lovely Horse II.