A Conversation with Zeus

It wasn't my fault that I
was the kind of God who leads others
A winner, goat-weaned, lightning blessed
Kingship was never my plan
But who fights celestial destiny?
To survive, I had to be lucky
and luck made me genial enough,
My smiles as wide as the sky

All those paramores (that luck again!)
Would have been with me anyway
It wasn't my kingship that wooed them
But my guess at their deepest needs;
A bull (who knew?)a shower of gold,
a swan, a cuckoo, an eagle
Bird shapes were best
I feel for the windborn and free.

Stuck here, on a throne on Olympus
With my stage beard and thunderbolts
While storm music rushes the skies
And wings lift above me in flight
Hera! Mortals! Hear me...
Offer no prayers at my altar,
I shed my glory long ago,
fallen to feathers, light escaping mountains

A difficult day

...Mainly for the reasons outlined in my last post.

But none of it has been helped by my lurgification over the last two days. I have developed some  dramatic symptoms of food poisoning, and am on an involuntary fast. Even  yoghurt provokes an unpleasant reaction.

Tomorrow I can't put off things that need to be done, which means going to Town. I'm in a pretty woeful state about it.

Edited to add: There now, cancelled what I could though still have to be up and doing in the morning. I am so addled, I forgot the main reason for this entry.

Just checking up on prices for make-up and hair do on the day.

Wedding make-up;£130.
Wedding hair (for 2 people if I like, but the price doesn't change irrespective) £300.

Three Hundred Pounds!  And for anyone who doesn't know, my hair basically looks like this:

Unless they intend to attach a satellite dish enabling us to get congratulatory skypes from Betelgeuse , I don't see what they can possibly do to warrant 300 nicker. No. Just no.  My own excellent London hairdresser can cut my hair, and colour it too, a couple of days before. As to the make-up, I'm still not sure. I've been guilty of putting too much for special occasions, but then so do  they...on the other hand, presumably they know how to make the slap last a long day. I don't know. There is a temptation to adopt luxury mink
(carefully brushed and welfare friendly) eyelash extensions, which would mean I could roll out of our tent/houseboat/wherever we are staying in Africa, without mascara, ready to pose for  photos of our honeymoon glory.

Is it me,or is this getting weird?