So Thursday, work just whizzed by, I worked my socks off to maintain my lead, (on myself, I don't compete with others,) my stats finished more than double what they should have been.... but don't tell anyone, they'd kill me.
J calls in for a brief 10 minutes, we haven't spoken all week which is highly unusual, she's rushed off her feet at the moment and she looks exhausted. I feel bad and just want to give her a hug or get her to at least lay down so that she can go to sleep, she looks like if she blinked, she'd be in the land of nod. Anyway, brief as it was, it was good to see her and I hugged her as hard as I could as she left, hopefully she gets that I've missed her.
Today is my last Friday off for four weeks so I am going to relish every second. I haven't run properly for at least three weeks so I'm running this morning, come hell or high water and even if it's only for 10 minutes.
For anyone who doesn't believe that if you want to lose fat, the only way to do so, is to combine diet and exercise, and my sister is one of those who needs convincing. Anyway, the reason I know this is because when I'm sad or stressed, which I have been for the past few weeks, I eat rubbish, add to that, I haven't been feeling my best and so I've slacked off on the exercise and hey presto, I'm now 4lbs heavier, or I should say, at least 4lbs heavier, I'm too scared to get on the scales this morning. I sleep well and wake early, breakfast then change and put on my running shoes. I decide on a 15 minute run, I don't want to shock my body too much but tomorrow it will be 20 minutes.
I did my clothes wash last night, this morning, I throw in the bedding and, once it's done, with a deep breath, I peg it out on the line with the hope of some sunshine, it isn't promising so far but looks like it might turn out nice.
I wake up fine, run, breakfast, around 8am, my left, (my good,) eye, starts to become irritated, it gets progressively worse, I try several mirrors, several angles, feels like an eyelash is sticking into the lens, cannot spot the culprit, maybe that's because my good eye is impaired?
I eventually head out for coffee at my usual haunt, I literally cannot see while driving there. I divert to a supermarket and buy the cheapest eye drops I can find, (it's days before payday and they were still £3.00.) The drops don't make any difference, apart from the first few seconds on application which at least provide some relief. I arrive at Starbucks, exchange pleasantries with Mr Regular, I write to you a little and flick through a magazine, speaking of which, still haven't received my prize yet. Anyway, I can't hang around today, I have somewhere to be. Re-apply drops, (this is the third time now,) and head out onto the motorway.
And so, after wondering if I was having a stroke, getting conjunctivitis, or going blind, and after having used enough of that solution to flush out a small dog, my eye suddenly felt much better. There must have been something stuck in there, irritating it, and it was, eventually, flushed out.
I'm meeting my cousin Jayne today for "coffee and cake" just before she returns to work after the arrival of Amelie Sophia. We don't see much of each other but we're pretty close. There are eleven years between us so I remember her being born, I remember getting the bus with my Mum for what felt like, a day, to get to her first birthday, (I have no idea how we got home.) I remember keeping her occupied on family visits, I used to tap out songs on the palm of her hand for her to guess, a kind of, home version of, "Name that Tune," (it was so that we didn't interrupt the adult conversation around the table,) sounds lame I know, but one or both of us were pretty good at this game as she guessed most songs. Anyway, she's become a really good friend and confidant, and I'm really happy about that and grateful.
Jayne and I meet in Knutsford, somewhere I worked for a while, it's a quaint, one road in, one road out town, full of character in the heart of the countryside and it's so good to catch up. It's the first time we've met without Amelie in a year, little Amelie is spending the whole day in nursery and while I miss the smile and a cuddle, I'm relishing my time with Jayne, while I can, before we're both at work full time. I know that it'll be harder to squeeze in visits after next week.
I get a text as I'm walking towards our rendezvous to say that she's waiting outside as that will be easier, I arrive seconds later and she's rocking sunglasses, her new short hair do and a jumpsuit, she is in fashion, so what do you expect huh? She looks fabulous, as usual.
We chat away covering all bases in our limited time, we have coffee and a large cupcake each, and we sit out, upstairs and on the terrace, really reminds me of that place in Hamilton where we had lunch on my first day, it was lovely.
So after a couple of hours of catching up, we say our goodbyes, vow to see each other before Christmas, (this sounds ridiculous, but it's not really, Christmas will be here before we know,) then I head home, via the supermarket, fizzy water, ginger, chillies. An hour into my ironing and I check my phone and have two messages, both from work. Are you sitting down? Well, you'll probably know by the time you're catching up with this, but after almost three years, there is overtime on Sunday!!!! I am so excited, I have to do it and another dozen Sunday's and I could be booking my flight to see you again! This could be a one off or it could be the start of a few, but either way, it is so welcome.
So I'm all excited with no one to tell, so I phone my cousin L, she's confused that I'm phoning at a time which isn't "ours," but listens patiently and makes all the right noises, and I feel better for having told her.
J phones me back eventually, sounds distracted while she listens, she probably is, she's at CJ's, still, I'm okay, I can be excited on my own now.
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
Glorious Sunshine?
All week, we've been promised glorious sunshine for two whole days. I've been nursing a bit of a cold all week and on Friday and Saturday, my legs felt like lead, so I went to bed early, and slept great, until 5am when stomach cramps woke me. I didn't feel like running but my laundry basket was grateful anyway.
So, Saturday, stomach cramps wake me at 5am. I don't feel up to working out so instead, I do two loads of washing, wet wipe the washing line, (again... I did it in Spring but it's now been rained on so much and not used, that it needs doing again,) and proudly, amidst the chilly air and wetter than wet morning dew, hang out my washing ready for the brilliant sunshine that we have been promised all week... this weekend.
I pegged each laundered piece out one by one, two pegs each, lovingly, in readiness for the sunshine. I still had time on my hands and so I commenced ironing before heading out for coffee.
It's a little busy here in Starbucks this Saturday morning, (I've just realised that Starbucks should be paying me some kind of commission for all of these mentions.) It's a little frenetic, quite busy and bustling, the music is a little intrusive, I should embrace it, it's lovely, but I'm feeling a little more silk pyjamas and eye mask today. I put on a little CBR, (Corrine Bailey Rae,) but I'd have to have her blasting in my eardrums to muffle out the din so the background noise is.... still in the background.
The good news is, I got home again, in time to take the washing in before the rain started. Yep, so much for glorious sunshine. Washing was just as damp as when I hung it out, three hours earlier.
After wrestling in the damp washing and finding somewhere to hang it, indoors, I ironed a little then B arrived to pick me up and we headed for Ness Gardens at noon.
We parked up just as a coach load were unloading and heading into the main building. I tell B that I'm making a break for it and I overtake the pensioners heading into the cafeteria, sounds mean but trust me, we'd have been there all day if we'd let the pensioners get seated before us. B has lasagne and I had bacon, cranberry and brie on wholemeal before we head off into the gardens.
Neither of us are particularly bursting with energy today and so we sit on pretty much every other bench that we come across, (there are many dedicated benches in Ness, thank goodness, really useful for a day like today.)
It's a nice day, not glorious sunshine, I have my jacket on the whole time we're walking around, that includes inclines, but it's still clement and we spy families and blue dragonfly's and busy bees and so much pond weed, I swear I could have walked across it was so thick. It's so peaceful though, no matter how many coach loads, and always calming, we have to do this next time you're home.
Towards the end, in the plant sale, a lady with a basket over her arm and cutting shears in her hands asks if we belong to the coach party. Do we look like we belong to the coach party????
I don't sleep well on Sunday night as usual, Monday morning, as I swoop around the bend of my close, heading out, the old man with the dog is on the footpath by the side of the road, he has already stopped as he always does in the wake of a car and he's waving at me before I even clap eyes on him. I wave and beam him a smile.
Work goes well, I appear to be super charged for some reason, be it, luck, skill or fluke, but I achieve just over two days worth of stats in a day on Monday, it's a great start to the week.
Tuesday I maintain my lead. Wednesday, I'm just closing the garage door at 5.25am, when I hear, "Morning Darling!" Scares me half to death but as I turn around, it's old man with the dog. I say "Morning!" All bright and breezy while I wait for my heart to stop beating quite so quickly, but I carry on closing the garage door and he carries on walking. By the time I turn to get into the car, he's walked far away but is now shouting and waving at me from a distance. I can't hear or understand a word because I'm next to the running engine of the car, and he has no teeth. He could be saying... "I'll kill you tomorrow, ok?" And I'm waving and smiling at him. He's not really, I'm sure he's lovely but I haven't a clue what he's just told me.
Wednesday and I've increased my stats lead. This isn't actually a good thing. We always argue about how difficult it is to get our stats and it is... I'm not actually sure what's happened this week, but I'm flying. I honestly feel like I'm on a production line though, and I'm bored. My craft has been honed. I'm churning out eloquent and lawful letters fit to go before a judge, and I could do it with my eyes closed, half asleep, with one hand tied behind my back, whilst I recite the alphabet backwards. I long for a challenging, creative task.
Wednesday evening and I'm usually in bed by now reading as there is nothing on TV. It's just before 7pm and a kid hammers with a fist, so hard on my front door, that the door almost flies open. As usual with these "knock and run" kids, they have fled the scene before I have got to the kitchen window. I remember being a kid, I even remember doing "knock and run" once, and only once, well it wasn't actually me, it was a group I was with. But I don't remember hammering hard enough to give someone a heart attack. I do remember why they hide like cowards though, it's because they know they have done wrong. And while the enraged lion in me wants to stride to the top of the drive and no doubt spot them cowering, waiting for my reaction, I quietly count to ten and hum a tune in my head until the anger subsides.
My Mum was always hot tempered, as am I, (we're fire signs, Aries and Leo, so you can like it or lump it.) In her later years, I pleaded with her not to answer the door or to go outside when antagonised, not because she couldn't handle herself, but because these days, a) you never know how things will escalate and b) someone has to be the grown up. Although it kills me not to scare the bejeezus into the little.... darlings, I am choosing to be the grown up.
Forty minutes have passed and I haven't had another pounding of the front door, maybe my... taking the higher ground, actually worked.
So, Saturday, stomach cramps wake me at 5am. I don't feel up to working out so instead, I do two loads of washing, wet wipe the washing line, (again... I did it in Spring but it's now been rained on so much and not used, that it needs doing again,) and proudly, amidst the chilly air and wetter than wet morning dew, hang out my washing ready for the brilliant sunshine that we have been promised all week... this weekend.
I pegged each laundered piece out one by one, two pegs each, lovingly, in readiness for the sunshine. I still had time on my hands and so I commenced ironing before heading out for coffee.
It's a little busy here in Starbucks this Saturday morning, (I've just realised that Starbucks should be paying me some kind of commission for all of these mentions.) It's a little frenetic, quite busy and bustling, the music is a little intrusive, I should embrace it, it's lovely, but I'm feeling a little more silk pyjamas and eye mask today. I put on a little CBR, (Corrine Bailey Rae,) but I'd have to have her blasting in my eardrums to muffle out the din so the background noise is.... still in the background.
The good news is, I got home again, in time to take the washing in before the rain started. Yep, so much for glorious sunshine. Washing was just as damp as when I hung it out, three hours earlier.
After wrestling in the damp washing and finding somewhere to hang it, indoors, I ironed a little then B arrived to pick me up and we headed for Ness Gardens at noon.
We parked up just as a coach load were unloading and heading into the main building. I tell B that I'm making a break for it and I overtake the pensioners heading into the cafeteria, sounds mean but trust me, we'd have been there all day if we'd let the pensioners get seated before us. B has lasagne and I had bacon, cranberry and brie on wholemeal before we head off into the gardens.
Neither of us are particularly bursting with energy today and so we sit on pretty much every other bench that we come across, (there are many dedicated benches in Ness, thank goodness, really useful for a day like today.)
It's a nice day, not glorious sunshine, I have my jacket on the whole time we're walking around, that includes inclines, but it's still clement and we spy families and blue dragonfly's and busy bees and so much pond weed, I swear I could have walked across it was so thick. It's so peaceful though, no matter how many coach loads, and always calming, we have to do this next time you're home.
Towards the end, in the plant sale, a lady with a basket over her arm and cutting shears in her hands asks if we belong to the coach party. Do we look like we belong to the coach party????
I don't sleep well on Sunday night as usual, Monday morning, as I swoop around the bend of my close, heading out, the old man with the dog is on the footpath by the side of the road, he has already stopped as he always does in the wake of a car and he's waving at me before I even clap eyes on him. I wave and beam him a smile.
Work goes well, I appear to be super charged for some reason, be it, luck, skill or fluke, but I achieve just over two days worth of stats in a day on Monday, it's a great start to the week.
Tuesday I maintain my lead. Wednesday, I'm just closing the garage door at 5.25am, when I hear, "Morning Darling!" Scares me half to death but as I turn around, it's old man with the dog. I say "Morning!" All bright and breezy while I wait for my heart to stop beating quite so quickly, but I carry on closing the garage door and he carries on walking. By the time I turn to get into the car, he's walked far away but is now shouting and waving at me from a distance. I can't hear or understand a word because I'm next to the running engine of the car, and he has no teeth. He could be saying... "I'll kill you tomorrow, ok?" And I'm waving and smiling at him. He's not really, I'm sure he's lovely but I haven't a clue what he's just told me.
Wednesday and I've increased my stats lead. This isn't actually a good thing. We always argue about how difficult it is to get our stats and it is... I'm not actually sure what's happened this week, but I'm flying. I honestly feel like I'm on a production line though, and I'm bored. My craft has been honed. I'm churning out eloquent and lawful letters fit to go before a judge, and I could do it with my eyes closed, half asleep, with one hand tied behind my back, whilst I recite the alphabet backwards. I long for a challenging, creative task.
Wednesday evening and I'm usually in bed by now reading as there is nothing on TV. It's just before 7pm and a kid hammers with a fist, so hard on my front door, that the door almost flies open. As usual with these "knock and run" kids, they have fled the scene before I have got to the kitchen window. I remember being a kid, I even remember doing "knock and run" once, and only once, well it wasn't actually me, it was a group I was with. But I don't remember hammering hard enough to give someone a heart attack. I do remember why they hide like cowards though, it's because they know they have done wrong. And while the enraged lion in me wants to stride to the top of the drive and no doubt spot them cowering, waiting for my reaction, I quietly count to ten and hum a tune in my head until the anger subsides.
My Mum was always hot tempered, as am I, (we're fire signs, Aries and Leo, so you can like it or lump it.) In her later years, I pleaded with her not to answer the door or to go outside when antagonised, not because she couldn't handle herself, but because these days, a) you never know how things will escalate and b) someone has to be the grown up. Although it kills me not to scare the bejeezus into the little.... darlings, I am choosing to be the grown up.
Forty minutes have passed and I haven't had another pounding of the front door, maybe my... taking the higher ground, actually worked.
Sunday, 22 July 2012
The Professionals, CI5
I have reneged on summer and I am sad to admit, that I have reinstated my winter continental quilt. I know it's not cold as such, very damp, yes, but cold no. Still, I've been cold in bed more than I've been overly warm, so I shouldn't feel too guilty, and I miss the comforting weight. I've given up on summer even though it's only July.
My cousin L is on holiday but she phones anyway, she always reads me my horoscope from the Sunday paper; "Single? Ahem... (and I'm paraphrasing,) your love, looks like your favourite movie actor." Oh gee whizz he does, he looks like Ryan Gosling, damn it.
Last Sunday, on my way to Starbucks, a small, Ford Capri convention passed me on the motorway. Three looked like the Bodie and Doyle variety, (I had a huge crush on Bodie and his poster on my wall when I was very small, well, small anyway.) Speaking of small, those cars are small, can't believe they looked so swanky on TV. Anyway, three were of the Bodie and Doyle variety, the fourth looked like it was right out of the 1950's. All good to see on a Sunday morn, something a little out of the ordinary.
Staying with cars, my life kind of flashed before me on the way home on Monday afternoon. It was wet, as usual. I was giving way at a roundabout, when a car took it too fast, coming in the opposite direction, he skidded, there was a screech of breaks, he spun around and for a second, I thought he was going to carry on skidding, in reverse, across the road and into me. I contemplated reversing out of his way, just in case, but a car was right behind me, so I had to just sit there and watch. All of this seemed to be happening in slow motion. He didn't hit me, he spun right round and his back wheels hit the roundabout edge, skidded backwards a little, then stopped. I've had two real life examples so far this year of how life can; "turn on a dime." My, "near miss" was in actuality, a huge miss, but it still made me think. You just never know what's around the corner, or at the next roundabout, do you?
The week wasn't terrible in work, I've been nursing a cold which has been trying to come out all week so I've been going to bed early to read, then sleeping like a log.
I'm in work Friday, don't know how much of it is psychosomatic as I try to take Friday's off, but I feel terrible all day Friday. I'm chilled to the bone, sniffy, ears and throat still a little sore and legs feel like lead, did I mention I'm cold all the time? I finish work asap and head to the supermarket then home to safety and to hibernate.
I had an interesting visit to my GP on Tuesday. I don't like to go, I only go if I really have to, but, it's been a while and I needed three medications renewing and I had three questions, so I booked 3 weeks in advance in order to get a double appointment. (That last three was a coincidence.)
My Dr is lovely, she's a little, how shall I put this? Hippy Dippy? I mean that in a really good way, and I wouldn't swap her. I'm totally on board, if I had all the time and money in the world, I'd do yoga and Pilate's every other day of the week, I would be as supple as a snake and I would sleep like a Koala, everything would be peachy and calm and I'd turn to holistic therapy for most things. Don't get me wrong, I am a huge advocate of an holistic approach to self preservation, but if I visit my GP, it's because I need drugs.
I began by exercising my bargaining tactics. Top of my list were sleeping tablets. Not that I'm saying that these provide the answer and believe me, if I could guarantee myself a nine hour sleep, once a month, I wouldn't be touching them. I may as well be asking my GP for 100% proof vodka, she would not choose to dole that out either. I've just worked out, (with the aid of a calculator,) that since she last prescribed them, over a year ago, I've used them less than three times per month, so it's hardly excessive is it? My GP admitted I'm not using them excessively but why aren't I using the relaxation download she gave me two visits ago? The woman's voice grates on my nerves and gets me to do the opposite of relax... the woman on the download, not my GP. I need to give it another go, apparently. GP went on to get me to close my eyes. How does your big toe feel? What? (Let's see, my big toe was up with me at 4am, almost thirteen hours later and after being called in for my appointment 40 minutes late, honestly, my big toe is as exhausted as I am and just wants to go home, have something to eat and go to bed.) If you can't feel it, give it a wiggle. I wiggle my big toe. How does it feel now? I'm desperately trying to think of something positive to say, it doesn't "feel" anything. It feels... fine. Fine, was the best my brain could come up with, it's my toe, unless you're standing on it or it's being pinched by too tight shoes, it doesn't really feel anything. How about the next toe, how does it feel? If you can't feel it, wiggle it. I'm still sitting there, eyes closed, hoping against hope, that we don't have to complete this exercise for all of my toes or my double appointment will have been eaten up by toe wiggling.
I will spare you the rest of the appointment, we had a "crossing the stream over a bridge" analogy, some women leap across it in one bound, for others, it takes years to cross the bridge. I am not making this up. As you may have guessed, my "double" appointment was called time on, before I'd got to the end of my post-it note list of three and three, I was told I needed to make another appointment for the last item on my list.
I got home exhausted, had Ryvita and Diary Lea triangles for tea, phoned B, Sheila phoned me and I went to bed, shattered.
I'm not sure what's going on with me at the moment, (possibly prematurely hormonal,) but I've felt teary at the drop of almost anyones hat, all week long. In the team meeting at work, in the supermarket, watching adverts, watching "Friends", you know the one were Monica and Richard realise they can't stay together because Monica wants children and Richard's done that already and is much older and he doesn't want to be 70 and just have the kids go off to college? They break up at Dr Barry Farber's and Mindy's wedding, remember Barry the orthodontist who Rachel ditched, almost at the alter and she's his new bride's "Princess Barbie" bridesmaid? Please do not shout at me for not giving a spoiler alert, you have had eighteen years to catch up. Okay, well, sixteen years to watch this Ep. And don't even get me started on the one were Rachel finally goes into labour, just pass me a tissue.
My cousin L is on holiday but she phones anyway, she always reads me my horoscope from the Sunday paper; "Single? Ahem... (and I'm paraphrasing,) your love, looks like your favourite movie actor." Oh gee whizz he does, he looks like Ryan Gosling, damn it.
Last Sunday, on my way to Starbucks, a small, Ford Capri convention passed me on the motorway. Three looked like the Bodie and Doyle variety, (I had a huge crush on Bodie and his poster on my wall when I was very small, well, small anyway.) Speaking of small, those cars are small, can't believe they looked so swanky on TV. Anyway, three were of the Bodie and Doyle variety, the fourth looked like it was right out of the 1950's. All good to see on a Sunday morn, something a little out of the ordinary.
Staying with cars, my life kind of flashed before me on the way home on Monday afternoon. It was wet, as usual. I was giving way at a roundabout, when a car took it too fast, coming in the opposite direction, he skidded, there was a screech of breaks, he spun around and for a second, I thought he was going to carry on skidding, in reverse, across the road and into me. I contemplated reversing out of his way, just in case, but a car was right behind me, so I had to just sit there and watch. All of this seemed to be happening in slow motion. He didn't hit me, he spun right round and his back wheels hit the roundabout edge, skidded backwards a little, then stopped. I've had two real life examples so far this year of how life can; "turn on a dime." My, "near miss" was in actuality, a huge miss, but it still made me think. You just never know what's around the corner, or at the next roundabout, do you?
The week wasn't terrible in work, I've been nursing a cold which has been trying to come out all week so I've been going to bed early to read, then sleeping like a log.
I'm in work Friday, don't know how much of it is psychosomatic as I try to take Friday's off, but I feel terrible all day Friday. I'm chilled to the bone, sniffy, ears and throat still a little sore and legs feel like lead, did I mention I'm cold all the time? I finish work asap and head to the supermarket then home to safety and to hibernate.
I had an interesting visit to my GP on Tuesday. I don't like to go, I only go if I really have to, but, it's been a while and I needed three medications renewing and I had three questions, so I booked 3 weeks in advance in order to get a double appointment. (That last three was a coincidence.)
My Dr is lovely, she's a little, how shall I put this? Hippy Dippy? I mean that in a really good way, and I wouldn't swap her. I'm totally on board, if I had all the time and money in the world, I'd do yoga and Pilate's every other day of the week, I would be as supple as a snake and I would sleep like a Koala, everything would be peachy and calm and I'd turn to holistic therapy for most things. Don't get me wrong, I am a huge advocate of an holistic approach to self preservation, but if I visit my GP, it's because I need drugs.
I began by exercising my bargaining tactics. Top of my list were sleeping tablets. Not that I'm saying that these provide the answer and believe me, if I could guarantee myself a nine hour sleep, once a month, I wouldn't be touching them. I may as well be asking my GP for 100% proof vodka, she would not choose to dole that out either. I've just worked out, (with the aid of a calculator,) that since she last prescribed them, over a year ago, I've used them less than three times per month, so it's hardly excessive is it? My GP admitted I'm not using them excessively but why aren't I using the relaxation download she gave me two visits ago? The woman's voice grates on my nerves and gets me to do the opposite of relax... the woman on the download, not my GP. I need to give it another go, apparently. GP went on to get me to close my eyes. How does your big toe feel? What? (Let's see, my big toe was up with me at 4am, almost thirteen hours later and after being called in for my appointment 40 minutes late, honestly, my big toe is as exhausted as I am and just wants to go home, have something to eat and go to bed.) If you can't feel it, give it a wiggle. I wiggle my big toe. How does it feel now? I'm desperately trying to think of something positive to say, it doesn't "feel" anything. It feels... fine. Fine, was the best my brain could come up with, it's my toe, unless you're standing on it or it's being pinched by too tight shoes, it doesn't really feel anything. How about the next toe, how does it feel? If you can't feel it, wiggle it. I'm still sitting there, eyes closed, hoping against hope, that we don't have to complete this exercise for all of my toes or my double appointment will have been eaten up by toe wiggling.
I will spare you the rest of the appointment, we had a "crossing the stream over a bridge" analogy, some women leap across it in one bound, for others, it takes years to cross the bridge. I am not making this up. As you may have guessed, my "double" appointment was called time on, before I'd got to the end of my post-it note list of three and three, I was told I needed to make another appointment for the last item on my list.
I got home exhausted, had Ryvita and Diary Lea triangles for tea, phoned B, Sheila phoned me and I went to bed, shattered.
I'm not sure what's going on with me at the moment, (possibly prematurely hormonal,) but I've felt teary at the drop of almost anyones hat, all week long. In the team meeting at work, in the supermarket, watching adverts, watching "Friends", you know the one were Monica and Richard realise they can't stay together because Monica wants children and Richard's done that already and is much older and he doesn't want to be 70 and just have the kids go off to college? They break up at Dr Barry Farber's and Mindy's wedding, remember Barry the orthodontist who Rachel ditched, almost at the alter and she's his new bride's "Princess Barbie" bridesmaid? Please do not shout at me for not giving a spoiler alert, you have had eighteen years to catch up. Okay, well, sixteen years to watch this Ep. And don't even get me started on the one were Rachel finally goes into labour, just pass me a tissue.
Sunday, 15 July 2012
St. Swithin's Day
I was really sorry to hear that Nora Ephron, one of my role models, Queen of the Romantic Comedy, had passed away. What a legacy she has left us. She managed to package, hope, humour and heart warming into tidy, 90 minute packages of love, that will keep our hearts from turning to stone, for the rest of time.
I had a lazy, hazy Saturday afternoon. I did a little housework then dabbled a lot in researching the family tree, which is as frustrating as ever. When I win the lottery, I'm going to hire an expert to dig up Mark Birch, well, not literally but he won't be able to hide from an expert, that's all I'm saying. He should be proud to be my Great Grandfather, stop hiding for heavens sake.
I was aiming for an early night, my body was screaming for restorative sleep, however, I had a friend who had other ideas and so it was 11pm before I settled my head on my pillow.
I wake around 7am, glad of a good sleep, but feeling like I'm coming down with a head cold. Still, I feel better than when I went to bed. No jogging this morning, I'm just going to hit the shower, have breakfast and head for coffee.
It's St. Swithin's Day, which means, (allegedly,) that if it rains today, then it will rain for the next 40 days. To be perfectly honest, it wouldn't be much different from the last 40 days, although I am tired of getting soaked. At present, the blue is winning over the grey, however, the grey is the dark, rain filled variety. I'm just hoping it holds off long enough for me to get home and cut the grass.
I'm in Starbucks, one of the barista's is mortified that she knew I'd be in and the filter coffee isn't ready. I'm all easy breezy and tell her as long as it's ready within 45 minutes, she doesn't need to worry. Why sweat the small stuff? I'm trying out their re-vamped Skinny Blueberry Muffin while they are on special offer. They taste fresh, tasty, definitely have more fruit in them, and have some variety of oats sprinkled on the top. Very agreeable, just wish they'd been made wholemeal, instead of white.
I recycle, food shop a little, get fuel then head home to cut the grass before it rains, did not take long at all and I'm done in no time.
I really should be doing some sorting out, but instead, I'm researching the family tree again and have Sex and the City, the movie on in the background. I love this film and I've watched it so many times already but I've just noticed that Carrie wears a black studded belt, it's probably something like D&G, I'd already noticed that she wore it twice with two different outfits, but I've just noticed another time, just shows you that the woman knows how to accessorise. Let that be a lesson to you all.
Speaking of Ms Bradshaw, have I told you that I descend from Bradshaw's? On my Grandad's side, kind of like that, I know that Carrie is fictional, leave me alone, I'm happy.
Mr Regular has just arrived, we acknowledge each other with a, "Morning!" he settles into his usual seat as I have settled into mine. He then rearranges the surrounding chairs, just how he likes them. We are funny creatures aren't we? We know what we like.
I had a lazy, hazy Saturday afternoon. I did a little housework then dabbled a lot in researching the family tree, which is as frustrating as ever. When I win the lottery, I'm going to hire an expert to dig up Mark Birch, well, not literally but he won't be able to hide from an expert, that's all I'm saying. He should be proud to be my Great Grandfather, stop hiding for heavens sake.
I was aiming for an early night, my body was screaming for restorative sleep, however, I had a friend who had other ideas and so it was 11pm before I settled my head on my pillow.
I wake around 7am, glad of a good sleep, but feeling like I'm coming down with a head cold. Still, I feel better than when I went to bed. No jogging this morning, I'm just going to hit the shower, have breakfast and head for coffee.
It's St. Swithin's Day, which means, (allegedly,) that if it rains today, then it will rain for the next 40 days. To be perfectly honest, it wouldn't be much different from the last 40 days, although I am tired of getting soaked. At present, the blue is winning over the grey, however, the grey is the dark, rain filled variety. I'm just hoping it holds off long enough for me to get home and cut the grass.
I'm in Starbucks, one of the barista's is mortified that she knew I'd be in and the filter coffee isn't ready. I'm all easy breezy and tell her as long as it's ready within 45 minutes, she doesn't need to worry. Why sweat the small stuff? I'm trying out their re-vamped Skinny Blueberry Muffin while they are on special offer. They taste fresh, tasty, definitely have more fruit in them, and have some variety of oats sprinkled on the top. Very agreeable, just wish they'd been made wholemeal, instead of white.
I recycle, food shop a little, get fuel then head home to cut the grass before it rains, did not take long at all and I'm done in no time.
I really should be doing some sorting out, but instead, I'm researching the family tree again and have Sex and the City, the movie on in the background. I love this film and I've watched it so many times already but I've just noticed that Carrie wears a black studded belt, it's probably something like D&G, I'd already noticed that she wore it twice with two different outfits, but I've just noticed another time, just shows you that the woman knows how to accessorise. Let that be a lesson to you all.
Speaking of Ms Bradshaw, have I told you that I descend from Bradshaw's? On my Grandad's side, kind of like that, I know that Carrie is fictional, leave me alone, I'm happy.
Mr Regular has just arrived, we acknowledge each other with a, "Morning!" he settles into his usual seat as I have settled into mine. He then rearranges the surrounding chairs, just how he likes them. We are funny creatures aren't we? We know what we like.
Ruffles
Thursday was my first, Malteser free day in almost two weeks. I know that you must be inordinately proud of me.
So, about 4 sales ago, I bought a capped sleeved work blouse from Next. I had my eye on it when it was full price and once it was in the sale, (despite it being two sizes too small,) I had to have it. I loved the vibrant orange colour and the caps were 4-ply ruffles, I look better with a bit of poof in the shoulder area. I've been able to fit into it for a while but it has remained in my wardrobe with labels intact, since initial purchase.
I finally decided I should wear it for work, I'm feeling brave enough to pull off orange and it'll go nicely with my charcoal grey work pants. So I pull out the shirt, rip off the labels and suddenly, the stiff, short ruffles remind me of something Sue Ellen Ewing wore in the '80's.
It gets tossed in the wash to soften the right angled arm arrangement and comes out of the wash looking less vibrant but still as right angled. If I'm feeling as brave next week, I'll give it a whirl, even if it's only once.
So, Friday. I had such a lovely sleep last night. I woke to the sound of rain, again, and kept rearranging myself in my snugly bed to try to drop off again. It was light, so without looking at the clock, I knew that it was past 4.30am... bonus. After rearranging and snuggling for a good while, I did check the time on my alarm clock, it was 5.20am, which means it was 5.10am in real life, yes, I am one of those people who sets their alarm clock 10 minutes fast, deliberately.
I jog for 15 minutes, shower, breakfast and head out, just as I'm nearing my destination, the final track of the Chris Evan's Breakfast Show, (although it isn't Chris today,) is Morecambe and Wise singing "Bring Me Sunshine." A huge smile escapes from my face, I'm sitting at traffic lights and I know that the person in the car to my left is looking at me and probably wondering what's made me smile. I love this song and I can picture them both singing it at the end of their show, it just makes you feel happy. Plus, my friend's 2.8 year old little boy has been taught this song at nursery, can you imagine how cute?
http://youtu.be/ZedhoqYdfTM Just in case you need a pick-me-up. I only have to look at Eric, (the one on the right,) and he makes me smile.
Anyhoo, I have a lovely time at Starbucks, the coffee is delightful, the music, unobtrusive, it's busy but in a good way, just a gentle hum of business in the background. I read around 10 pages of my new book, write to you then indulge in a few minutes of Shape magazine.
After shopping and doing my work and pillow case ironing, J and I arrange to rendezvous at a Starbucks in our locale. We haven't seen each other for a few weeks, not in person. We chat for 45 minutes but it's J that is itching to get on to next on the agenda today and that's fine. After killing some time in the teeming rain, I roll up, 45 minutes later for my waxing appointment.
I'm still 10 minutes early so I park myself on one of the two chairs, waiting for Mandie to finish with her lady. An elderly lady arrives shortly afterwards, she's a regular, amply fills the other chair and she is quite needy. I pass her her bag, I pass her, her stick, she grips onto my arm to get from A to B which is only 3 feet away, I know I sound like a horrible human being but how did she make it out of her house? She's done nothing but speak of her cold and catarrh since she sat and coughed next to me, she looks like a very clean lady, but with my OCD, I will now have to go home and put my first wear after the last wash jacket, in the wash again when I get home. Mandie finishes with her last appointment, takes me upstairs to her treatment room, I explain that I have to wash my hands and she's waiting for me with a clean towel and then antibacterial gel. I know I'm horrible, but if I make it to old age, I hope I don't start coughing on people.
Mandie, my beauty lady, is, well, I count her as a friend now, I've been seeing her for so long. We've both lost our Mum's so we have an innate understanding. And it's basically like visiting a therapist when I go to see her, not that we talk about our Mum's all the time you understand, but when certain things crop up, she gets it. So I'm there, she asks what's going on in my life, I bring her up to date and before you know it, we're both crying. This is not the norm incidentally. My mascara may be smudged but at least I'm fuzz free.
I didn't sleep great last night and woke feeling terrible, so the day has not gone as planned. I just did what I had to, coffee'd, (only one though, and no chocolate coin today, it called for a shortbread biscuit to try to settle my stomach.) Chatted with Fay, nipped into Elle Macpherson Intimates, (would be rude not to as there is a sale on,) bypassed the recycling, bank, home, had a sit down, two bowls of soup then did some housework, finally. After that, I indulged in a "Sex and the City" 2 hour mini marathon, (Carrie's first book gets published, meets Berger for the first time, goes on a train with Samantha to... Atlantic City? I can't actually remember, Charlotte meets Harry and he drips sweat all over the divorce papers.) Ahhhh, happy TV memories.
So, about 4 sales ago, I bought a capped sleeved work blouse from Next. I had my eye on it when it was full price and once it was in the sale, (despite it being two sizes too small,) I had to have it. I loved the vibrant orange colour and the caps were 4-ply ruffles, I look better with a bit of poof in the shoulder area. I've been able to fit into it for a while but it has remained in my wardrobe with labels intact, since initial purchase.
I finally decided I should wear it for work, I'm feeling brave enough to pull off orange and it'll go nicely with my charcoal grey work pants. So I pull out the shirt, rip off the labels and suddenly, the stiff, short ruffles remind me of something Sue Ellen Ewing wore in the '80's.
It gets tossed in the wash to soften the right angled arm arrangement and comes out of the wash looking less vibrant but still as right angled. If I'm feeling as brave next week, I'll give it a whirl, even if it's only once.
So, Friday. I had such a lovely sleep last night. I woke to the sound of rain, again, and kept rearranging myself in my snugly bed to try to drop off again. It was light, so without looking at the clock, I knew that it was past 4.30am... bonus. After rearranging and snuggling for a good while, I did check the time on my alarm clock, it was 5.20am, which means it was 5.10am in real life, yes, I am one of those people who sets their alarm clock 10 minutes fast, deliberately.
I jog for 15 minutes, shower, breakfast and head out, just as I'm nearing my destination, the final track of the Chris Evan's Breakfast Show, (although it isn't Chris today,) is Morecambe and Wise singing "Bring Me Sunshine." A huge smile escapes from my face, I'm sitting at traffic lights and I know that the person in the car to my left is looking at me and probably wondering what's made me smile. I love this song and I can picture them both singing it at the end of their show, it just makes you feel happy. Plus, my friend's 2.8 year old little boy has been taught this song at nursery, can you imagine how cute?
http://youtu.be/ZedhoqYdfTM Just in case you need a pick-me-up. I only have to look at Eric, (the one on the right,) and he makes me smile.
Anyhoo, I have a lovely time at Starbucks, the coffee is delightful, the music, unobtrusive, it's busy but in a good way, just a gentle hum of business in the background. I read around 10 pages of my new book, write to you then indulge in a few minutes of Shape magazine.
After shopping and doing my work and pillow case ironing, J and I arrange to rendezvous at a Starbucks in our locale. We haven't seen each other for a few weeks, not in person. We chat for 45 minutes but it's J that is itching to get on to next on the agenda today and that's fine. After killing some time in the teeming rain, I roll up, 45 minutes later for my waxing appointment.
I'm still 10 minutes early so I park myself on one of the two chairs, waiting for Mandie to finish with her lady. An elderly lady arrives shortly afterwards, she's a regular, amply fills the other chair and she is quite needy. I pass her her bag, I pass her, her stick, she grips onto my arm to get from A to B which is only 3 feet away, I know I sound like a horrible human being but how did she make it out of her house? She's done nothing but speak of her cold and catarrh since she sat and coughed next to me, she looks like a very clean lady, but with my OCD, I will now have to go home and put my first wear after the last wash jacket, in the wash again when I get home. Mandie finishes with her last appointment, takes me upstairs to her treatment room, I explain that I have to wash my hands and she's waiting for me with a clean towel and then antibacterial gel. I know I'm horrible, but if I make it to old age, I hope I don't start coughing on people.
Mandie, my beauty lady, is, well, I count her as a friend now, I've been seeing her for so long. We've both lost our Mum's so we have an innate understanding. And it's basically like visiting a therapist when I go to see her, not that we talk about our Mum's all the time you understand, but when certain things crop up, she gets it. So I'm there, she asks what's going on in my life, I bring her up to date and before you know it, we're both crying. This is not the norm incidentally. My mascara may be smudged but at least I'm fuzz free.
I didn't sleep great last night and woke feeling terrible, so the day has not gone as planned. I just did what I had to, coffee'd, (only one though, and no chocolate coin today, it called for a shortbread biscuit to try to settle my stomach.) Chatted with Fay, nipped into Elle Macpherson Intimates, (would be rude not to as there is a sale on,) bypassed the recycling, bank, home, had a sit down, two bowls of soup then did some housework, finally. After that, I indulged in a "Sex and the City" 2 hour mini marathon, (Carrie's first book gets published, meets Berger for the first time, goes on a train with Samantha to... Atlantic City? I can't actually remember, Charlotte meets Harry and he drips sweat all over the divorce papers.) Ahhhh, happy TV memories.
Thursday, 12 July 2012
Snippets of Blue
I'm starting this on Wednesday. I'm still eating my body weight in Maltesers everyday, gosh I hope this subsides soon. I've spent a lot of time today thinking of diversion tactics when, in reality, I just need to get-a-grip. If I carry on like this, I'll be even more miserable because I'm 10lbs heavier.
Torrential rain woke me this morning at 3.30am. Not a terrible hardship as my alarm was due to go off around 3.50am anyway, but I lay there thinking, this is summer, and I'm going to get soaked to the skin this morning. The rain made so much noise, it reminded me of being in a caravan when I was a kid... in torrential rain... probably in the summer holidays.
By the time I was leaving home at 5.30am, it was only very light rain, and the same 40 minutes later when I parked up, ready for my walk the office.
Work has bored my soul half to death, I'm finding myself longing for "complicated" assignments to make the day a little more interesting. Needless to say, the days have dragged.
I contacted Grazia yesterday about my prize, they got back to me today and it should be winging it's way to me in the next few days, I had to contact them the last time I won, (after I'd waited for them for a couple of weeks.) Next time I win, I won't wait so long to get in touch ;)
So, I'm thinking of you, all of the time and really wish I could phone a travel agent right now and book a flight. Sadly, I can't. I am however going to put a little something in the post to you on Friday, just so you know I'm thinking of you and that I'm with you in spirit. It will be something sparkly.
On my way home from work, my cousin sent me a text to say that darling daughter Miss Amelie Sophia, had taken her first steps today. First steps of many, into a big, wide world, I'm so proud and cannot wait to witness this in person.
Wednesday, in case you wanted to know... ended with beautiful blue skies, we're just experiencing snippets of summer this year, but every snippet, is a welcome one.
Torrential rain woke me this morning at 3.30am. Not a terrible hardship as my alarm was due to go off around 3.50am anyway, but I lay there thinking, this is summer, and I'm going to get soaked to the skin this morning. The rain made so much noise, it reminded me of being in a caravan when I was a kid... in torrential rain... probably in the summer holidays.
By the time I was leaving home at 5.30am, it was only very light rain, and the same 40 minutes later when I parked up, ready for my walk the office.
Work has bored my soul half to death, I'm finding myself longing for "complicated" assignments to make the day a little more interesting. Needless to say, the days have dragged.
I contacted Grazia yesterday about my prize, they got back to me today and it should be winging it's way to me in the next few days, I had to contact them the last time I won, (after I'd waited for them for a couple of weeks.) Next time I win, I won't wait so long to get in touch ;)
So, I'm thinking of you, all of the time and really wish I could phone a travel agent right now and book a flight. Sadly, I can't. I am however going to put a little something in the post to you on Friday, just so you know I'm thinking of you and that I'm with you in spirit. It will be something sparkly.
On my way home from work, my cousin sent me a text to say that darling daughter Miss Amelie Sophia, had taken her first steps today. First steps of many, into a big, wide world, I'm so proud and cannot wait to witness this in person.
Wednesday, in case you wanted to know... ended with beautiful blue skies, we're just experiencing snippets of summer this year, but every snippet, is a welcome one.
Wimbledon 2012 Men's Final
So if you haven't watched "Hitch" recently, you should do so, it's a great movie, heart warming, even on a cool day.
Saturday turned out to be uneventful, nothing like last Saturday. I told you that L had invited me to stay over and I'd declined thinking I'd have a visitor, but no visitor. It's no biggie, I would not have been good company anyway. The day was spent ironing, with a bit of moping thrown in, then a little wine later on, and a very early night, I think I was in bed by 8pm, shameful on a Saturday night, I know.
So I ironed my way through the majority of Saturday, jeez, my life is so exciting. I ended up watching most of "Mr Deeds," it's an Adam Sandler film, 10 years old, which I've never seen before. Then I recorded "Four Weddings and a Funeral" and retired to bed. I loved this film. Saw it three times at the cinema and it's been so long since I last saw it.
When I watched it back though, I really did not remember how bad the script was. The actors, all of them brilliant. The script? How did I think this was good? How was this the biggest grossing UK film of it's time? Some of the lines are pure gorgonzola and it was embarrassing to hear them again. I wonder if the actors knew at the time how bad some of those lines were when the rest of us were caught up in Four Weddings Fever?
(My work colleagues scoffed at me when I told them of my 4WAAF trauma as I rolled my eyes. Maybe I have become a tired cynic who has lost her romantic mojo. I, "suspect," as it's one of the most overused words in the script, that I'm just watching it with a more critical eye.)
Sunday, and I was running ahead of schedule all day by about 20 - 30 minutes, and you may think that this isn't a bad thing but it kind of throws you out, believe me. I go to my darling nephew's for coffee, (after texting to say I'm ahead of schedule,) and he's demonstrated his latest techno purchases, I look suitably impressed and they are good, but don't ask me to describe them to you. They are very fancy-pants and he can play something from his phone on his thingy-ma-jig with speakers in his day room. My description really doesn't do it justice, it was very impressive, well, I was impressed anyway.
I get home and B arrives from church not long afterwards. She's come to attack my garden and I am truly grateful, as long as she doesn't damage herself in the process, whenever I "garden," I ache for about three days afterwards.
As well as being any old Sunday, it's the Men's Final at Wimbledon. This is quite an occasion, it always is a special occasion which, whether you're a tennis nut or not, fills your heart with tradition and pride, well, for me it does anyway, and I couldn't serve to save my life. Today is extra special as it's the first time in 75 years that a Brit has made the final. I hardly dare say it but for a Brit to win in Jubilee year.... well, we'll just have to wait and see.
It is also, the 25th anniversary of Aussie, Pat Cash winning the title. I can't believe it's been that long. I remember it like it was yesterday, the head band, the mullet, the way he scaled the seats to get to his Dad, it was magical and I'd never seen anything like it before. A vision that will stay in my memory forever. Pat was a little teary eyed when the good old BBC played the VT back to him, and so was I.
Well, in the middle of all of this, Sheila phones me. Sheila phoned on, I think Friday night but I was already in bed, feeling extra wiped out by the blood donation on Thursday. She phoned today for a catch up and while I did my very best not to blub, I did a little bit, well, my voice was cracking a bit, which I hate. It's just hormones and being a bit sad over things, it's really nothing at all. Sheila is always lovely, always understanding, I think of her like a sister but she's always comforting like a Mum, and she's really not that much older than me. She just listened and spoke of positives, even though I know that there aren't really any room for positives, it is what it is just now. The next few days will be hard and then I'll be home and dry.
In case you didn't hear, Roger Federer prevailed. I was so torn. I've witnessed Roger win 6 times previously and he is always so brilliant and so gracious, even in the years of defeat, he is a true gentleman of sport, but then we have Andy Murray. Would have been great for Andy to win, not only for him but for Jubilee year and he was so moved at the end, it moved me to tears, again. Maybe it was meant to be though, someone dearly departed, who liked a punt, left a betting slip to Oxfam. The bet was left some time ago and it was that Roger Federer would win Wimbledon seven times. Oxfam netted £100,000. Isn't that amazing? I suspect somewhere up there, a bell just rang.
Saturday turned out to be uneventful, nothing like last Saturday. I told you that L had invited me to stay over and I'd declined thinking I'd have a visitor, but no visitor. It's no biggie, I would not have been good company anyway. The day was spent ironing, with a bit of moping thrown in, then a little wine later on, and a very early night, I think I was in bed by 8pm, shameful on a Saturday night, I know.
So I ironed my way through the majority of Saturday, jeez, my life is so exciting. I ended up watching most of "Mr Deeds," it's an Adam Sandler film, 10 years old, which I've never seen before. Then I recorded "Four Weddings and a Funeral" and retired to bed. I loved this film. Saw it three times at the cinema and it's been so long since I last saw it.
When I watched it back though, I really did not remember how bad the script was. The actors, all of them brilliant. The script? How did I think this was good? How was this the biggest grossing UK film of it's time? Some of the lines are pure gorgonzola and it was embarrassing to hear them again. I wonder if the actors knew at the time how bad some of those lines were when the rest of us were caught up in Four Weddings Fever?
(My work colleagues scoffed at me when I told them of my 4WAAF trauma as I rolled my eyes. Maybe I have become a tired cynic who has lost her romantic mojo. I, "suspect," as it's one of the most overused words in the script, that I'm just watching it with a more critical eye.)
Sunday, and I was running ahead of schedule all day by about 20 - 30 minutes, and you may think that this isn't a bad thing but it kind of throws you out, believe me. I go to my darling nephew's for coffee, (after texting to say I'm ahead of schedule,) and he's demonstrated his latest techno purchases, I look suitably impressed and they are good, but don't ask me to describe them to you. They are very fancy-pants and he can play something from his phone on his thingy-ma-jig with speakers in his day room. My description really doesn't do it justice, it was very impressive, well, I was impressed anyway.
I get home and B arrives from church not long afterwards. She's come to attack my garden and I am truly grateful, as long as she doesn't damage herself in the process, whenever I "garden," I ache for about three days afterwards.
As well as being any old Sunday, it's the Men's Final at Wimbledon. This is quite an occasion, it always is a special occasion which, whether you're a tennis nut or not, fills your heart with tradition and pride, well, for me it does anyway, and I couldn't serve to save my life. Today is extra special as it's the first time in 75 years that a Brit has made the final. I hardly dare say it but for a Brit to win in Jubilee year.... well, we'll just have to wait and see.
It is also, the 25th anniversary of Aussie, Pat Cash winning the title. I can't believe it's been that long. I remember it like it was yesterday, the head band, the mullet, the way he scaled the seats to get to his Dad, it was magical and I'd never seen anything like it before. A vision that will stay in my memory forever. Pat was a little teary eyed when the good old BBC played the VT back to him, and so was I.
Well, in the middle of all of this, Sheila phones me. Sheila phoned on, I think Friday night but I was already in bed, feeling extra wiped out by the blood donation on Thursday. She phoned today for a catch up and while I did my very best not to blub, I did a little bit, well, my voice was cracking a bit, which I hate. It's just hormones and being a bit sad over things, it's really nothing at all. Sheila is always lovely, always understanding, I think of her like a sister but she's always comforting like a Mum, and she's really not that much older than me. She just listened and spoke of positives, even though I know that there aren't really any room for positives, it is what it is just now. The next few days will be hard and then I'll be home and dry.
In case you didn't hear, Roger Federer prevailed. I was so torn. I've witnessed Roger win 6 times previously and he is always so brilliant and so gracious, even in the years of defeat, he is a true gentleman of sport, but then we have Andy Murray. Would have been great for Andy to win, not only for him but for Jubilee year and he was so moved at the end, it moved me to tears, again. Maybe it was meant to be though, someone dearly departed, who liked a punt, left a betting slip to Oxfam. The bet was left some time ago and it was that Roger Federer would win Wimbledon seven times. Oxfam netted £100,000. Isn't that amazing? I suspect somewhere up there, a bell just rang.
Saturday, 7 July 2012
The List... to be continued
Tell the special people in your life that they are special to you
Don't put off doing something because you think you're not good enough
Don't put off going anywhere because you think you won't fit it or look the part
Don't forgo applying for a job because you don't think you're qualified enough
Don't right anyone off without giving them a chance
Be as kind to yourself, as you are to others
Be open enough to let someone surprise you, it's a revelation
No matter what your age, don't think that you are too old to learn
Love the ones you have to let go and wish them the best, always
Love those you've lost and be glad they blessed your life. They will always be part of your life
.... this list is subject to change, be warned.
Don't put off doing something because you think you're not good enough
Don't put off going anywhere because you think you won't fit it or look the part
Don't forgo applying for a job because you don't think you're qualified enough
Don't right anyone off without giving them a chance
Be as kind to yourself, as you are to others
Be open enough to let someone surprise you, it's a revelation
No matter what your age, don't think that you are too old to learn
Love the ones you have to let go and wish them the best, always
Love those you've lost and be glad they blessed your life. They will always be part of your life
.... this list is subject to change, be warned.
Rom Com
It's Saturday. I retired very early last night, I just couldn't keep my eyes open and I felt a bit blah, I just wanted the day to be over. I'd no sooner gone to bed than J phoned, she'd had a hospital appointment. As she hadn't even told me she had an appointment until she texted to say she was about to go in, I thought I'd better get up and phone back to see how she got on. She obviously didn't want to talk about it as everything was; "fine." B had said she might call in but didn't so I knew it was safe to disappear. S then sent me a text, was I out? No, I'm in bed, we'll catch up over the weekend, I don't usually like phoning S at the weekend as she has a big family and I always think of the weekend as family time, it's not for me.
Anyway, I slept well, I think I dreamt that I was home dying my hair? Other than that, it was uneventful. I didn't feel like jogging this morning but I did do a little toning. I get to Starbucks and Fay thinks I've lost weight, I haven't, I've gained at least 2lbs of Maltesers but I think it's those sidekick things I've been doing, I've taken an inch off my hips in a week doing these things. Think I should bring out a book on tried and tested strategies for the modern woman? I can talk about all kinds from stir fry to spot reduction.
L has invited me to stay over tonight but I'm expecting B to arrive and want to tackle my garden, and if I put her off, she'll never speak to me again, plus, I don't feel like I'd be good company at present, I'm better on my own when I'm like this.
So I return home, we actually have a blue sky. Not sure how long it will last. I set about completing the ironing that I started yesterday, I'm ironing last weekends date clothes and pretty summer dresses that I unearthed in my wardrobe last weekend, which I know won't be wearing, they'll be washed and ironed and retired to my wardrobe for another 10 years.
There is nothing on TV and so I decide to opt for the favourite DVD option, of which there are many. Did you know that all of my favourite DVDs are either rom coms or love stories? I really need to find a favourite slasher movie or something nice and depressing. So for now, it's "Hitch" that is keeping me company while I iron. You can't beat Mr Will Smith, although Mr Ryan Gosling and Mr Jake Gyllenhaal would tie nicely, it would be rude to exclude, don't you think?
Anyway, I slept well, I think I dreamt that I was home dying my hair? Other than that, it was uneventful. I didn't feel like jogging this morning but I did do a little toning. I get to Starbucks and Fay thinks I've lost weight, I haven't, I've gained at least 2lbs of Maltesers but I think it's those sidekick things I've been doing, I've taken an inch off my hips in a week doing these things. Think I should bring out a book on tried and tested strategies for the modern woman? I can talk about all kinds from stir fry to spot reduction.
L has invited me to stay over tonight but I'm expecting B to arrive and want to tackle my garden, and if I put her off, she'll never speak to me again, plus, I don't feel like I'd be good company at present, I'm better on my own when I'm like this.
So I return home, we actually have a blue sky. Not sure how long it will last. I set about completing the ironing that I started yesterday, I'm ironing last weekends date clothes and pretty summer dresses that I unearthed in my wardrobe last weekend, which I know won't be wearing, they'll be washed and ironed and retired to my wardrobe for another 10 years.
There is nothing on TV and so I decide to opt for the favourite DVD option, of which there are many. Did you know that all of my favourite DVDs are either rom coms or love stories? I really need to find a favourite slasher movie or something nice and depressing. So for now, it's "Hitch" that is keeping me company while I iron. You can't beat Mr Will Smith, although Mr Ryan Gosling and Mr Jake Gyllenhaal would tie nicely, it would be rude to exclude, don't you think?
Friday, 6 July 2012
Torrential Rain
I have comfort eaten my way through the week, there were not enough Maltesers in the whole of the North West of England to cheer me up. To try to counteract the Malteser after shock, I've been upping the toning every night, not sure it's worked though.
Work this week hasn't been too bad, lots of IT problems but while everyone around me seemed frustrated beyond belief, I just let it wash over me, what can you do?
Remember the old white haired man with the dog that says, "Morning Miss"? Well he almost gave me a heart attack. I was getting the car out of the garage around 5.25am on Thursday, got out of the car to close the garage door and I heard, "Morning!" He'd walked past and waited for me at the next garden. Hadn't seen him at all, so after a slight shock, I smile/grimaced and "morning'd" right back at him. I didn't want to make him think he'd scared me.
I went to donate blood today, Thursday. Hurt a bit due to scar tissue, I've been donating for 25 years now so it's only to be expected. I can only put this down to enormous amounts of water, I drank about 1.5 litres of water before I went to donate, then they give you a big glass of water to drink while you fill out the paperwork and I gave my donation in 5 minutes 57 seconds, my own personal best. You have to give in 15 minutes and usually, I have to squeeze a grippy tube to help pump the last remaining bit before the 15 minutes is up, otherwise, they can't use my donation. One of the more mature nurses attended to me today, she's comforting, (even though she told me she took her cat to the wrong cattery while she went on holiday... easily done, I'm sure.) She chatted to me the whole time and thanked me for coming, it's nice to see familiar faces when you go, reassuring.
I speak to a sister at night and she makes a passing jibe, which upsets me. I don't get why people want to be nasty to each other, why go out of your way to be hurtful to another person? I know that we can all say things when we're short on temper, which is bad enough, but at other times, do we have an excuse or are we just being a bitch?
It's Friday and I'm using a day's leave again. I have a little bruise on my arm from yesterday, and it's a bit sore, but it's fine. The rain is torrential and driving on the motorway is treacherous. Visibility is very bad but thankfully everyone is keeping their speed down. I park up, lock the car and I'm making a dash for it when I hear a garbled shout. I turn back and see a woman sitting in a car. Did she shout me? I can't really see of course but I can make out that it's a dark haired woman and she's on her phone. She waves and I'm wondering if someone is behind me, then she beckons for me to come back towards her car. As I get nearer, I realise it's my friend Carol and I get in her car out of the rain.
Carol finishes on the phone, explains what she's doing there (on way to Manchester but weather so bad and flood warnings for later so she diverted...) and then we head for coffee.
We have a good catch up, I tell her the latest and she gives me a "tough love" talk, I know she's right, it's not like I haven't already gone through it in my own head, in every single permutation, it's just so depressing to hear. Anyway, it was lovely to see Carol but I abandoned everything else I intended to do.
I then, in the torrential rain, went from one shop on my list to the next, not finding anything I needed and getting wetter with each trip. By the time I got home, I was sodden, hair, clothing, shopping bags. It's a really miserable day, weather wise.
When Sally Said Goodbye...
It's Sunday today and I was out last night to end a romance, yep... the one that ended a couple of weeks ago... this was the official ending, I know... don't ask. We had a great time but it'll never work. Hard, but necessary, I'm sad but resigned, just not meant to be, had a great night though, I'll miss him. While chatting last night, we discovered that I used to work with his favourite Nan, approximately 24 years ago, small world eh?
Going to bed very late, I got around 3.5 hours sleep last night but still woke bright as a button, can't believe it's Sunday. Didn't work out, feel a bit shell shocked, so instead, I browse the Internet and have cereal and coffee...and toast. Got a lovely text from you so at least I know you're having a fab night.
I have two coffee's at Starbucks, it's very quiet and I'm perched with my iPod on with Adele singing heartbroken songs to me.
I'm home by 11, just not in the mood for anything today, not even browsing the sales. B arrives at 1.15pm and declares that if I don't want her to garden (can I just say that it is actually raining at this point,) then she'll leave. I'm a bit stunned, probably because I'm not feeling particularly thick skinned today, so I say "okay," if gardening alone for several hours is more important than spending 5 minutes having a cuppa with me, then so be it. Not sure if it was my; "okay" reaction but B stays for about 30 minutes before leaving, and after a tea... no gardening.
I watch; "When Harry Met Sally," his favourite film, which really didn't help matters.
Going to bed very late, I got around 3.5 hours sleep last night but still woke bright as a button, can't believe it's Sunday. Didn't work out, feel a bit shell shocked, so instead, I browse the Internet and have cereal and coffee...and toast. Got a lovely text from you so at least I know you're having a fab night.
I have two coffee's at Starbucks, it's very quiet and I'm perched with my iPod on with Adele singing heartbroken songs to me.
I'm home by 11, just not in the mood for anything today, not even browsing the sales. B arrives at 1.15pm and declares that if I don't want her to garden (can I just say that it is actually raining at this point,) then she'll leave. I'm a bit stunned, probably because I'm not feeling particularly thick skinned today, so I say "okay," if gardening alone for several hours is more important than spending 5 minutes having a cuppa with me, then so be it. Not sure if it was my; "okay" reaction but B stays for about 30 minutes before leaving, and after a tea... no gardening.
I watch; "When Harry Met Sally," his favourite film, which really didn't help matters.
Sunday, 1 July 2012
That Girl's My World
"That Girl's My World." This is a phrase that I heard many times as a child. It was said in a jokey fashion with extra emphasis for dramatic effect. I asked B today where that phrase came from after Googeling and drawing a blank. I thought it had come from a song, (the nearest one I could think of was Cilla Black's "You're My World," or maybe it was a comidian's catch phrase but no, we don't know where it came from. Regardless of where it came from, in those days, no one said; "I love You," so maybe this phrase was a way for that person to say, in an unselfconcsious way; "I love you."
Our conversation from last night, got me thinking, as I do with any significant conversation or happenings. Life is short, whether that be 8, 80 or 800 years, even in the grand scheme of things, 800 years is but nothing when compared to time and space.
I wasn't raised in a house of, "I love you's." It just wasn't done, not so much due to my age but because my Mum was of an older generation and for them, it definitely wasn't done, it was only after Mum died that I realised that she did infact love me, and that was only through my powers of deduction, it was just never spoken.
So I decided to make a list, I don't know when I'll publish this list becuase I think I'll have to change some of my deeply ingrained thinking to be perfectly honest, and I may well have a few arguments with myself over it. The list is a; "to be continued..."
Having said that, number one on the list is to tell the special people in my life, that they are special to me. Can there be any greater gift than telling someone that of 7 billion people on the planet, they are special and that they make a difference?
Our conversation from last night, got me thinking, as I do with any significant conversation or happenings. Life is short, whether that be 8, 80 or 800 years, even in the grand scheme of things, 800 years is but nothing when compared to time and space.
I wasn't raised in a house of, "I love you's." It just wasn't done, not so much due to my age but because my Mum was of an older generation and for them, it definitely wasn't done, it was only after Mum died that I realised that she did infact love me, and that was only through my powers of deduction, it was just never spoken.
So I decided to make a list, I don't know when I'll publish this list becuase I think I'll have to change some of my deeply ingrained thinking to be perfectly honest, and I may well have a few arguments with myself over it. The list is a; "to be continued..."
Having said that, number one on the list is to tell the special people in my life, that they are special to me. Can there be any greater gift than telling someone that of 7 billion people on the planet, they are special and that they make a difference?
Watch This
http://youtu.be/aHrdy6qcumg
I think this is genius, if you know anyone that smokes, send it to them.
I think this is genius, if you know anyone that smokes, send it to them.
Strictly Monday
It's Friday and the week has been odd. Monday night, J and I went to the Liverpool Philharmonic to see, "Dance to the Music," a live show featuring the BBC, Strictly Come Dancing Band, with dancing by Kristina Rihanoff, Robin, (Bobby) Windsor, Kara Tointon and Artem Chigvintsev.
I love live music and it was faultless, the musicians and singers are so talented, but I have to admit that I am spellbound by the dancing. They chose the most popular songs from every genre and generation and it really was brilliant. My two favourites were Liverpudlian Tommy Blaize performing a slow version, (which I'd never heard before,) of "My Girl," I found this clip but it was actually better on the night; http://youtu.be/EsHLu1DGHvc , then another of the singers, Tori Beaumont, beautifully perforned in the style of Eva Cassidy, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," to which Kristina and Robin performed, I couldn't say what dance it was, maybe an American Smooth as there were a lot of lifts, all I know is that it was beautiful, moving, stunning to watch. At the end, most of the audience were moved to give them a standing ovation, it was pure brilliance and emotion on the stage before you. At the end of the piece, they both left the stage, then Robin returned, breathless but tried, through his heavy breathing to explain that both he and Kristina had left special people at home, and that they had decided that each night, they would dance that piece for their people, which almost brought back the tears I was trying so hard to temper.
Later, Kristina and Robin danced a contemporarty piece to Christina Perry's "Jar of Hearts." Again, it was passioinate, moving, breathtaking, and won them another standing ovation. I've sat in many a Liverpudlian audiance and these special gifts, the standing ovation, is not freely given away, trust me, they were truly deserving.
Kara is the only non professional but she can really hold her own and she does not stand out as a non professional, (she did win Strictly almost two years ago but she is truly talented.) Artem and Kara, a real life couple in the wake of Strictly, performed a piece that Artem had choreographed for them in Stictly. It was the first time that a piece of classical music had been used on Strictly and it was equally stunning in real life, they performed to music from Swan Lake; http://youtu.be/z6ySmDg23k0
We managed to get bracelets backstage to both ladies so I hope they're wearing a little bit of Love Harlow.
It was 11pm before I got home, I had a shower, coffee and a piece of toast then hit the hay by 11.30, of course, I didn't fall asleep straight away so when my alarm went off at 3.50am, I'd had 3.somthing hours sleep.
I love live music and it was faultless, the musicians and singers are so talented, but I have to admit that I am spellbound by the dancing. They chose the most popular songs from every genre and generation and it really was brilliant. My two favourites were Liverpudlian Tommy Blaize performing a slow version, (which I'd never heard before,) of "My Girl," I found this clip but it was actually better on the night; http://youtu.be/EsHLu1DGHvc , then another of the singers, Tori Beaumont, beautifully perforned in the style of Eva Cassidy, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," to which Kristina and Robin performed, I couldn't say what dance it was, maybe an American Smooth as there were a lot of lifts, all I know is that it was beautiful, moving, stunning to watch. At the end, most of the audience were moved to give them a standing ovation, it was pure brilliance and emotion on the stage before you. At the end of the piece, they both left the stage, then Robin returned, breathless but tried, through his heavy breathing to explain that both he and Kristina had left special people at home, and that they had decided that each night, they would dance that piece for their people, which almost brought back the tears I was trying so hard to temper.
Later, Kristina and Robin danced a contemporarty piece to Christina Perry's "Jar of Hearts." Again, it was passioinate, moving, breathtaking, and won them another standing ovation. I've sat in many a Liverpudlian audiance and these special gifts, the standing ovation, is not freely given away, trust me, they were truly deserving.
Kara is the only non professional but she can really hold her own and she does not stand out as a non professional, (she did win Strictly almost two years ago but she is truly talented.) Artem and Kara, a real life couple in the wake of Strictly, performed a piece that Artem had choreographed for them in Stictly. It was the first time that a piece of classical music had been used on Strictly and it was equally stunning in real life, they performed to music from Swan Lake; http://youtu.be/z6ySmDg23k0
We managed to get bracelets backstage to both ladies so I hope they're wearing a little bit of Love Harlow.
It was 11pm before I got home, I had a shower, coffee and a piece of toast then hit the hay by 11.30, of course, I didn't fall asleep straight away so when my alarm went off at 3.50am, I'd had 3.somthing hours sleep.
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