Thursday, 25 September 2014

Delivering Paintings and a Shopping trip

Last Friday and Saturday were 'hand in' days for the Eastern Open. An open exhibition for artists living here in the East. There are a lot of submissions and you are lucky to have work accepted. Non the less, I keep trying with the occasional success. I'd filled in the forms and sent money off before I went to France. Of course I hadn't planned on not being able to drive and hadn't taken into account Dad's birthday celebrations. I thought "well. I'll just have to miss out this year" but hang on - I paid £36 (£12 per painting). On Monday I phoned to see if I could put them on a carrier. Yes, that would be fine as long as they were there by Thursday. Next call was to Frank, he dispatches orders daily via their carrier. No one had known about my dilemma as I do hate asking for help and people doing things for me . So when Frank knew he said he'd take me and the paintings over to King's Lynn - what a star. Finding the labels was a bit of a challenge as Frank had 'tidied up' but eventually they were unearthed from the bottom of a 'to do' pile. Paintings duly wrapped and labelled, off we went.
Frank drove my car as it's easy to get in and out. it was lovely to be outside again. I have to say I am a bit of a back seat (or in this case, front seat) driver, which is a bit of a problem when it is your braking foot that is broken, shall I just say 'OUCH'

Paintings delivered I asked Frank if he'd mind calling in at Tesco. I had to convince him that they would have wheel chairs, his way of saying that he wasn't really keen on going. Once inside we headed for a stand of wines on offer. He asked me which one I wanted and how much was it to which my reply was "Don't know, I've got my back to it all" Some wheel chair driving lessons are in order I think. Vital supplies having been tracked down we headed for the check out, credit card in hand I was pushed straight through and out so he had to make payment.

We got home to the welcome smell of braised steak in the slow cooker. That morning was my first attempt at cooking. I managed quite well hopping round the kitchen and kneeling pot leg on a stool but the combination of that and being in a car with leg down for so long had taken it's toll.
I retired to the settee with a rather swollen throbbing foot and purple toes and a very large glass of Tesco's best white wine. 

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