As I said in my previous post, a gaggle of friends came down to visit at the weekend and as we hadn’t all been together since Christmas (I said I was a bad friend, didn’t I?) there were all kinds of things to catch up on: births marriages, deaths, that sort of thing. But there is also a thousand, million insignificant, day to day things that, as we talk so rarely, we just don’t know about each other. It made me realise how much time had passed and how little even our closest friends know about us.
Anyway, at one point we were talking about films we watch when we’re down or feeling a bit poorly, and I said that one of my all time favourites was Shirley Valentine. A film adaptation of Willy Russel’s one-woman play about a downtrodden Liverpudlian housewife who’s life’s ambition is to drink a glass of wine at the edge of the sea in the country where the grape was grown, watching the sun go down. It is a gem and I watch it whenever I need a bit of an imaginary cuddle. Maybe because it reminds me of my Mum in the ’80s, or of the family holiday to Crete when, at the age of 12, decided I wanted to live there forever. Or maybe it’s just really, really good.
Yesterday I received a text message from one of my friends saying that she’d had a couple of days off sick, and to relieve the intense boredom she’d driven to ASDA and come across Shirley Valentine for £3. Halfway through watching it she texted me to tell me she was loving it and already felt better. I was so proud of Shirley and so pleased to have passed on something so silly and personal to someone else, so I thought my lovely readers might like a little taster too.
Have a great weekend my pretties, and remember the F Plan if you’re having trouble trying to shift those extra pounds.