The snow has melted, the sun is out and I have seen Titanic! The latter is all down to my good friend, Pelly, who practically forced me to sit down and watch it with her, Mr Sheepwash and Mr Grigg. She said it was for my own good and my OU film history studies could depend on it. It wasn't half as bad as I remembered, although Leonardo DiCaprio did look like he'd just started middle school. Sadly, the only bits of dialogue I can recall are 'this is bad,' when DiCaprio's character realised what was happening to the ship (or maybe the plot) and Kate Winslet breathlessly saying: 'Touch me Jack.' I've heard it called a Jemima before or even a front bottom but never a Jack.
Kate 'keep-your-hand-off-me-h''apenny' Winslet and a small boy do the sober or drunk test.
The end of the film prompted some debate. Mr Grigg was adamant the old lady dropped the diamond into the icy waters by accident. Pelly and I were sure she'd planned it. Why else would she have bothered to get her toenails painted for the lingering camera shot on her surprisingly young looking feet? Mr Sheepwash, like a castaway picking out a winkle, is always one to get to the real truth of the matter. He simply went to the computer and googled 'Titanic Diamond Drop'. It appears this is not the first time the argument has surfaced. The search engine came with a number of similar online debates. And the consensus was that she meant to drop it.
We are off to a party this evening, an 18th to be precise. The boy's parents have hired the village hall and are filling it with people our age, which is great for us but I'm not so sure about the birthday boy. The theme is black and white. We were thinking dinner suits and little black dresses. But Mr Grigg and I are tempted to wear the priest's and nun's outfit we used for bellringing a few years ago. Watch this space.
That's about it
Love Maddie x
Living in Greece for the past couple of months, I've been asked what the refugee situation is like here. Well, to be perfectly hones...
Oh my. Dorset is going to be bathed in swathes of light. The spotlight is literally turning on Hardy's Dorset, rural Dorset, that buco...
We're in the pub in Lush Places, our ears ringing from a night of wonderful music. The gritter lorry goes by, churning its contents ...
About seven weeks ago, I wrote a piece for my column in the oldest woman's weekly magazine in the world, The People's Friend . ...
For eleven years, this was my holiday. Not bad for a confirmed landlubber. It all began in 2004 when Mr Grigg and I were looking for a ...