Ivy and The Van

Ivy Penny, now there's a name you should use as a heroic character in a children's book, possibly one that involves a magic tree and some talking pans. Ivy is my friend. How lucky. It's probably got to do with how unjudging and lovely she is and therefore just likes me as I am. Which is a rare commodity these days. Even though I'm a loud mouthed blunt crass kind of girl at times, I am surrounded by these best friends of sweeter that sweet cherry pie quality. Odd, but it makes sense. The other blunt girls (with pointy bits) really don't like me. And I don't like them.

Give me the Anitas, Narelles and Ivys of this world.

Ivy suggested that a pre-departure van christening was a must. So we drove to the local bottle shop where I annouced (in my loud mouth way) that we should try "some kind of imported Italian wine tonight" and down the aisle this bloke with an inside out wooly mottled jumper said "oh you must get a blah blah from Spain. It's incredible" and ten minutes later he convinced us that even if we are drinking in the back of a van in the carpark that we should get this gold encased Spanish wine to go with our, now quite cold, pizza.

And in usual Ivy, doe eyes, dulcet tones, she asked to borrow a couple of glasses from the manager who just gave us a box of 4 to keep (for the van).

It always happens with Ivy.

And in a very natural way the van got Christened. It's now called 'Spritely'.
This is what my brother calls me (mostly sarcastically) but it makes me smile.
(And as a kid I loved Rainbow Brite to the extreme.)

[current mood] Raw Desserts with Carob & Library Borrowed CDs

Comments

[Jos]

yes, i prefer the anitas, relles and ivy's of the world, but the nat's are just as endearing...make no mistake!