Champagne René Jardin Rosé
Sunday, March 16th, 2008There are occasional tiny slivers, splinters of darkness in my life, that give me a sharp reminder of what I am giving up for my work. It’s not that I resent it, entirely my own choice after all. When I started the company in 2001, I went in with my eyes open. I realised it would mean sacrifices.
This afternoon I took my 10 year old god-daughter to see Man City. The look of delight on her face when City beat Spurs 2-1 was matched only by my relief at the end of an awful run of games that had put us on a snake track slithering down the league table.
Kellie came over from Dublin for the weekend with her sisters, Rebecca and Chloe – all gorgeous girls, well behaved, entertaining, polite, model children. Kellie is obviously my favourite and she is the footie fan, tomboy, fitness fanatic, make-up-rejecting bundle of energy.
And now they have all gone and I am alone in the flat. It’s strange how lonely you can feel when sudden mayhem is suddenly replaced by a sudden quantum of solace.
So to cheer me up, apart from consoling myself that City are back on the ladder of success, I have dragged out my notes from a bottle of Shampoo I sampled last weekend.
Stumble It!
