...... and the rest of the story ...... ...... feeling a bit weak n wobbly now from lack of warmth and food and drink, we decided to have soup in an arcade cafe. (also for mester Wild to take the opportunity for a comfort break (they are costing us a fortune!)) this was also my opportunity to don my new Incredibly soft and comfortable one size tights in the ladies rest room . The carrot n Coriander soup was delish by the way, presented with a fat chunk of toasted white bread :0) .... so off up the three flights of stairs I went, to put on the extra layer of warmth in the rest room (thats why they called it the rest room - you sure needed it when you got there.) You know when something says one size ......erm well .... no matter how hard I pulled them tights, the gusset wasnt budging very far above me knees! ....... in small writing on the box it said Inspired by Italy - excuse me, but I didnt think the Italian race was derived from Pygmies!!! .... Bravely on I soldiered though, and proceeded to walk the streets of Buxton in a peculiar half-bent/demented posture (is Notre Dame in Italy by the way?) Now Buxton is a very nice, genteel, sort of a place, steeped in history (nay even SOAKED in history - they used to have Spa baths there n all that). The park is a sight for sore eyes, and has a miniature railway, a lake, playground, and ice-cream vans- brrrrrrrr. I cant wait to visit when its warmer! Some amazing unique shops by the way, in the converted baths. We strolled (him upright, me Quasimodo like), up the hill to the outside market, which apparently has depleted somewhat over the years - reight expensive it were! Not much doing up there, so we carried on, to make it a circular walk, back to the park ( I forgot to mention that even though we had just partaken of soup n toast, we sat on a park bench to eat our egg sarnies, crisps , pear, apple, cereal bar, washed down with a cuppa from the flask) ..... by this time Im beginning to feel a little bit squished, as the Incredibly soft and comfortable one size tights are starting to force me jeans in a downwards direction. Thank goodness that the pavilion in the park has a very spacious Ladies. In I goes. With no more to do, I whipped out my Little Swiss kit with the foldy- uppy scissors and cut a neatish line in the flippin tights just above me ankles. I almost twanged to the ceiling as I set myself free from my encumberment! Freeeeeeeeeeeedooooooooom!!! I am now the owner of footless tights (Incredibly soft, of course) and a pair of matching socks. .... nother break …
Posted on: Tue, 20 Jan 2015 09:17:52 +0000
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