Three words in the English language end in the letters G R Y. Angry is one, hungry is another. But what is the third?

Apparently this question has been around for a while, it was posed to me Monday evening and I only just remembered I was going to try looking it up (using an online rhyming dictionary). I found the answer.

I’m amused.

Beats Anettens result, anyway.

Short version:

Drank some cider. Drank a lot of whisky. Got engaged. Drank some more whisky. Was shown around a few distilleries and tasted the wash at most of them. Drank even more whisky. Beat England in the Whisky Game (we ended up 3rd out of 5 teams). Had some whisky for a change. Discovered the airline we were travelling with (Duo) had gone bust on Friday leaving us stranded. Booked tickets with Ryanair and had some whisky to celebrate. Drank too much whisky at Dregs, but was unashamedly cheerful the next morning even so. Met Lyn in Edinburgh and was introduced to Peter, Ella (the dog) and Kally (the blind cat). Went for a walk on the beach in Prestwick and caught the flight back home.

Did you pay attention to that? You might gather, if you know the rest of the story, that Martin (finally) proposed. In public, even, at the Aberlour dinner Friday night, with an american film team present, which may mean we’ll end up with the whole thing on DVD (not produced by us). I sure hope someone filmed it, because I must admit that everything seems a bit hazy in retrospect. I must have answered in the affirmative, though, because I now have this shiny thingamagig on my finger, which feels very strange.

Anyway, as a good blogger (I mean “good” as in “good girl”, I’m not in any way passing judgement on the quality of this blog), I have, naturally, created a wedding blog. In fact I created it a few months ago. More about that over there.

As you can tell, I’m back from Scotland. It’s been an eventful few days, so bear with me while I gather my thoughts (and catch up at work). I will give you an update eventually.

So. The end of the Friday Five. You’re right, Heather, we’ve seen it coming. Which makes it no less sad, though the putting to rest is perfectly understandable.

Good luck with whatever you now get up to.

Via Tinka: Blender’s 50 Worst Artists in Music History

I own God Shuffled his Feet, I think. I can’t remember having listened to it more than once, though. Otherwise, there is the odd hit on compilation CDs (The Living Years on one called “Songs of Heaven”, for example), but no more whole albums. I wouldn’t mind a Michael Bolton’s greatest hits if I could get one without Georgia On My Mind and Sitting at the Dock of the Bay, but I suspect that’s going to be a hard one to find (I know the rest of his hits are cheesy and terrible, but I like cheesy and terrible).

The discussion over at Theresa’s reminded me that I really, really need to get a grip and fix the remaining bits on my bunad. It’s been untouched since I wore it 17th May last year, I’ve been meaning to fix the last little bits, but you know how it is. However, I’m supposed to be wearing it at the Aberlour dinner next Friday, and we’re leaving for Scotland Thursday, so I only have a week and a half now.

Now, it is wearable as is (as you can see from the pictures), but there are two problems. One is that the hooks on the skirt are in the wrong position, so that it’s actually too wide, also, I ought to have hooks fastening the skirt to the bodice – it’ll look better that way. The second problem is a bit more involved. The bunad used to belong to my grandmother, who is 25-ish centimetres shorter than me and the shirt is therefore too tight around the neck and way too short in the sleeves. Problem with this is that to fix it I need more material… I’ve found some which is almost right, the same weight and feel but a slightly different colour. So I’m thinking I need to take some material from the body of the shirt to extend the arms and the collar and use the new material to elongate the body of the shirt (it’s too short as it is anyway). The part that’s a slightly different colour will then be hidden (mostly) by the bodice and the alteration should not be noticeable. However, this involves a bit of work. Will I have time to finish it by Thursday next week? If I can’t finish it, it would be better not to start, as the first thing to do would be to take the shirt apart and I can hardly wear a shirt that is in pieces to the dinner.

I suppose I’ll just have to get cracking. After all, Martin’s mum made his whole Kystdrakt (in which he looks simply delicious, btw) from scratch since this autumn – surely I can manage a couple of relatively simple alterations in a week?

The Queen of Procrastination. Me, that is.

Addendum: It appears life is treating me a little too well at the moment, with the result that I’ve put on an inch or so around the waist. So, hurrah, hurrah, there is no need to move the hooks after all. Blessings come in strange disguises…

This morning I got a virus mail at work – the first I can remember receiving at that address. The apparent sender is “abuse@gov.us” and the subject is “Illegal Website” which makes one curious enough (though wary) to read the message:

You have visited illegal websites. I have a big list of the websites you surfed.

The attachment, of course, is not a list but a virus (removed, it must be said, in case you were getting worried here, by the virus scan). Although there are several obvious signs that people ought to pick up on (gov.us? two-line e-mail? wouldn’t a four-page writ be more likely if it was a legit message?), this is definitely in the top-five wiley virus messages list.