Tragically, Mrs (should that be Baroness?) Von Trapp announced to me on Friday that they are moving out soon. Not, however, before I have subjected them to my housewarming party (based on your kind encouragement I have decided to go ahead with this) full of deviants, single mothers, and other infidels and enemies of the Lord. If you lurk around here, live in the Kingdom of Belgiana, and want to come to my party, drop me an email and I will subject you to a barrage of intense psychometric tests for my own amusement and demand lavish gifts, before possibly inviting you (to sit in an entirely empty Salmon Palace with me and a bowl of stale paprika flavoured crisps, probably).
There is very little to say about a weekend in bed, so be grateful I don't do it often. Instead, let me tell you what I bought this week. I am not buying anything else for a very long time, possibly forever, and shouldn't have bought any of this either. Ssssssh.
1. Cos dress. Heavy sort of stone coloured silk, nice draped sleeves. Anonymous, but useful. Cos is brilliant at the moment (though their website is totally impenetrable, and I couldn't for the life of me find a picture of my dress to show you). I could have gone a bit Mariah in there and bought pretty much everything.
2. Serge Lutens, L'Eau. This is the soapy perfume I have been obsessing about for months. I shouldn't have bought it, but there it is. I still love it. It's a big bottle and I will be able to smell clean and delicious for aaages. Yes, the dark forces of Mr Lutens have probably brainwashed me, sucked out my spinal fluid and replaced it with jelly, and that is why I have bought it. I am powerless to resist.
3. A new Tin Tin Tin full of biscuits. This one is much larger and has a camel on. I don't love it as much, but it's useful. Also, more biscuits. More biscuits makes me happy, makes the boys happy, makes the dog happy. Biscuits increase the sum of human (and canine) happiness. The end.
4. Spring food. Tomatoes, fresh goat cheese, asparagus, strawberries. Yesterday afternoon I finally shuffled out around 5, pale and paranoid, into the busy shopping street at the end of mine. It was like being bizarrely transported to Provence, but with more waffles. Warm, temporarily pedestrianised, full of amazingly tempting food. Although I am now further away from Brussels' premier ice cream parlour named after male genitalia, there are many summery compensations in my new quartier including an embarassment of places to sit and drink small cups of coffee in the sun, with a whiny neurotic dog trying to jump into your lap and stick its nose into your complimentary speculoos. What with this and the large, bewilderingly overgrown garden, the Salmon Palace is shaping up to be a very lovely spot to spend the summer. Which is a good thing as I most certainly can't afford to go anywhere more exotic (see 1-4 above).
5. A €5 geranium from a Girl Scout. I should know by now that if the door rings on a Sunday it will be the nauseatingly cheerful girl scouts hitting me up for some outrageously over-priced item or donation. Last time they were collecting food for the poor and confused me into giving them a giant bar of Côte d'Or special crack-chocolate (aux Amandes Caramelisées avec une pointe de sel). This time I paid approximately €1 per leaf on the puniest geranium known to science. It's guilt - they rouse me from my Sunday sloth, bedsocks inside out, no bra, food stained tshirt and then I feel I have to contribute. Damn them. Next time the bell rings on a Sunday morning. I'll just hide until they go away.
Tell me about your weekend, or something you bought. Distract me from the start of another week of endless doom.