Six weeks and a dead fox

Only six weeks to go to the wedding. I've decided to abandon the apologetic tone of this blog and will plough on with wedding news safe in the knowledge that some of you find it interesting.

So, today we bought the rings. Mine does not make me invisible (although I can dream) and now resides by the computer. Jenna's is being sized.
We also have the post wedding stay over sorted. A posh hotel for the two nights before we get whisked off to Polenta in Italy. OK, it's Positano, but that always make me think of Postman Pat, or Il Postino. Polenta makes me think of food (mmm, food) which is never a bad thing.

I got a little freaked last night watching 'Will & Grace' when Grace got married and discovered she didn't even know her new husband's real name. If Jenna turns out to be a Doris I may take a while to get over it.

Now, the sad tale. Ach! Excuse the pun. Yesterday I saw a fox in front of my car. Obviously injured and unable to move its back legs I was debated whether to get out and wring its neck, or drive over it (I certainly couldn't leave it in this state). Just as I decided to take the cowardly way out and run it over it looked up at me, eyes directly to mine, full of hopelessness and frustration (yes I'm anthropomorphizing). I went to put the car in gear but at that moment the fox dragged itself off the road, using its front legs, and propelled itself into the undergrowth of a field. Looking over the road I saw a woman in her car who had stopped to watch, tears streaming down her face.

Well, I thought, this is a great omen.

Current listening: Back Home Blues - Charlie Parker


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