More Bernard

Do you remember me telling you about my psychic Bernard?  I've seen him a few times over the years, he can describe me like he's known me all of my life, warts and all, which is why I feel the need to claim him as mine.

This time, the reading is over the phone which, on the plus side, means that he doesn't get go comment on how, judging by how my hands look, I've been around for 400 years.  So funny because, I feel like I'm 400 years old.

For the non believers, how can someone with this gift, tell you almost the exact same thing about yourself, every time they speak to you?  There is no way on earth, that anyone's memory is that good.

So here we go, a run down of what Bernard told me this time:

I feel a desperate need to Spring Clean everything just now, even though it's not Spring
I want to get rid of anything I don't need, and that includes people
I have a sign on my forehead saying; 'can I help you?' (he's told me that several times before,) but all I want to do is tell these people to 'get lost' at the moment.  You just don't have the energy.
(All of the above is true.)
I need a day to relax, if I'm not able to swim, maybe go somewhere and sit by water (I love to be near water.)
Bernard sees a rainbow.  Rainbows are apparently lucky, they appear after a storm.  I need to 'let go' of past events and not try to go back and attempt to fix them.
I'm strong, intelligent, not scary looking
I have OCD (True, true, true, true, true ....)
I have a memory like an elephant yet forget the simplest thing
I am super organised, make endless lists yet forget where I parked at the supermarket (He is so freaky.)
If anyone does anything for me, to help me, they do it wrong, (they really do, it's not just me being me.)
I attract people with problems
I'm with the right person, but we're not together (True, true, true)
I won't want to hear this but there may be a new relationship with someone new, very soon
My life is never simple
He sees two houses, two sets of keys, maybe I'm house sitting?
My property is changing (I need to declutter and do a million jobs)
You like cooking, you're good at it, but you're too tired at present
There is a business opportunity or something new coming on the job front, give it a go
I'm good at organising people, especially men (what do I do with that?)
Promotion or something new on the job front in the next few weeks, not something I apply for
I always do the work of two people
Don't trawl the internet for a relationship, these relationships are not real, no good for me (as I suspected)
You attract people who don't make an effort
You want someone who puts you first
Someone around you, an 'S' likes you
By 21st September, I'll hear about a new job.... (not going to happen as don't return to work until 29th)
By the end of October, I'll be doing something new

Having a conversation with Bernard is comforting because I know that I don't have to pretend anything.  I can't, he'll see right through it.

Interesting, intriguing and comforting, all at the same time.

Seizure

It's eleven weeks since my last physio appointment with my miracle worker Vicki.  'How have you been?'  Quite frankly, I've been stiff and stiffening on a daily basis for the past, well, feels like a million weeks.  I sprained my ankle, (for no reason really, no dramatic trip, fall, just a twinge after a jog, which turned into pain and an enormous, elephantesque swollen ankle, for weeks on end.)

And so, I didn't, couldn't jog for weeks, then when I might have been able to, it was only two or three weeks before the wedding and I couldn't risk having an enormous ankle and being unable to get the fabulous, nude, patent leather, sling back heels on to go with the dress I'd decided on.  So I didn't jog for another few weeks.  As well as not jogging, I also got out of the habit of doing my daily little stretches.  Well, it all added up and conspired against me.  All contributed to seize me up, good style.

Vicki, bless her cotton socks, managed to stretch out my 30 minute appointment to 40 minutes.  Can't tell you how grateful I was or how sore I was afterwards, for at least 3 days, it was probably 4 days if I'm being honest.  It's the sorest I have ever been following a physio session and it was like looking into the future, if I don't do my part, look where it will get me.

Looks like I need to 'embrace' working out, once more.

Asylum Seeker

This week, I watched a TV programme about asylums in England, in the 19th and early 20th century.  This got me thinking about my Great Grandmother Hannah, who died in an asylum in 1923, as far as I know.  The story goes that she was admitted with 'milk fever' following the birth of my Grandfather James.  Now, I assumed that this meant, somehow, Hannah had developed some kind of infection shortly after the birth, which had given her fever, hallucinations, who knows what?  People were committed to asylums for all kinds of reasons at the time, reasons which, these days, are totally treatable, in a non committal way. 

Reasons for admission to a lunatic asylum were; (seriously;) asthma, female disease (?) time of life (?) woman trouble (?) novel reading (really?), menstrual deranged, marriage of son, egotism, epileptic fits, kicked in the head by a horse, laziness, business trouble, immoral life, mental excitement, parents were cousins, grief, snuff eating for 2 years, desertion by husband, feebleness of intellect.

Judging by the descriptions, you had one foot in an asylum if you were female.

Need I go on? Are we agreed that we would all be in there for one reason or another, be it kicked in the head by a horse, parents were cousins, or menstrual derangement, who hasn't been there?

I've searched for 'milk fever' and the entry I found related to a person drinking infected milk.  We'll never know I guess, or at least, we won't know until more records are accessible online.

So far, my cousin Lyn has managed to pinpoint Hannah on the 1891 census, classed as a 'lunatic' and living in an asylum.  I feel quite sad at the thought of her being incarcerated there and I can't imagine  that she had many visitors.  Nor can I imagine being locked away from anyone and everyone I know and love.  My Grandfather James was the youngest, so she was separated from her children, plural.

I've visited Hannah's grave many times since I was very small but I'm ashamed to say that I never really gave her much thought.  Still, even without the full story, I have a  new respect for her.  I was told that she, Hannah, had 'milk fever', that Grandad, her son had visited her, and that she died in an asylum in 1923.  Hannah must have been around 60 years of age when she died and while I have quite a few missing puzzle pieces, it's looking like she spent half of her life within an asylum. 

Ironically, Hannah died the very same year as her husband, after all those years apart, and they are buried together.

I would love, one day to investigate Hannah's story and fill in all of the blanks, piecing together her life. 

The next time I visit Hannah's grave, I will take flowers, especially for her.  Without her, there would be no James, without James, there would be no Dorothy, and without Dorothy, there would be no...

Birthday

Yes, it's that time again already and as you know, another birthday has rolled around again, seemingly less than twelve months since the last one.  I received several text messages with warm greetings, one of which advised that I share my birthday with; Usain Bolt, Kim Catrall and Kenny Rogers.  What can I say? Athletic Super Hero, Goddess, Heroine and SATC stalwart, Legend.  Good company huh?

So I took myself off for a coffee and a chill first thing this morning, oh, I should say that yesterday, I treated myself, (I say treated myself but it was free, nevertheless, a treat,) of a hand and arm massage with the very handsome Michael at Jo Malone.  With strict orders to stay away from anything sweet, we chose together a ginger and something concoction which was gorgeous.

Back to the day itself and my coffee was lovely and low key, didn't mention it was my birthday, you know I hate fuss.  Returned home and within half an hour, one of my sisters had arrived with a lovely plant, shopping voucher and bottle of wine.  We left to pick up another sister then headed out for lunch at a nearby pub, one you and I have been to a few times in fact.  I was aiming for a light lunch as I'm out later with another sister at Wagamama's, my favourite.

Lunch was lovely, I asked lots of questions and the conversation flowed, food was nice, as was the large glass of wine I had and I didn't feel overly stuffed by the end... in preparation for Wagamama's.

The three of us descended back to sister's for coffee and more chat which revolved around what great age I am, (I'm rolling my eyes right now,) followed by a lengthy chat about.... euthanasia.  I'm not kidding.  Not that it's not an emotive subject, not that I don't  have thoughts and feelings about the subject, and you can call me a prima donna, but I just don't think euthanasia is a happy birthday subject.  After a while, one of my sister's noticed I was abstaining from the conversation and promptly changed the subject. 

After a little while longer, I'm deposited at home and within an hour, I'm being picked up again and Jan and I are off to W's.  I could honestly eat there every day.

If you remember, the seating arrangements are that the tables are long with benches and they seat, I'm guessing six to ten people.  Jan and I are seated next to the wall, which I like.  Our gorgeous waiter, looks like front man Ricky from the Kaiser Chiefs, who I have a soft spot for anyway, and now I have one for my, sorry, our waiter.

Jan and I have a variety of starters, including lollipop prawns, edamame and duck gyoza, followed by mains of yaki soba, (we always have yaki soba and it's always delicious.)

Jan has desert and I have my customary glass of wine in lieu of desert plus a flash of that dazzling smile from our waiter. 

Jan drops me off at home and I throw myself into the bathroom for a quick shower, I then proceed to make my bed, for some ridiculous reason, I decided to start my housekeeping a day early and stripped my bed when I got up this morning, I totally failed to factor in that it was probably the one day in the year I could give myself the day off and that if I didn't remake my bed before the festivities, I may be slightly tipsy from a little merry making to commemorate the occasion, by the time I got home.

Anyway, within 30 minutes, I'm taking to you, an almost perfect end to an almost perfect day but after I'd spoken to you, my cousin Lyn phoned me for my final birthday phone call of a long, but lovely day.  I'm tired, but can't believe the day is over.  Another year has begun.

Wedding Day

So it's wedding day.  First family wedding for a few years and my cousin PQ's big day.  As you know, my family isn't exactly harmonious so I've been half dreading this day and it's really taken the shine off the build up.  All I can do is remain...'Switzerland', (neutral) and hope for the best.  I've set my alarm for 7am but I'm wide awake at 6 so I rise for a decent cup of coffee, or as decent as I have in anyway.

My appointment to have my hair put up is at 8.45, I arrive ten minutes early and my hairdresser hasn't arrived yet. 

When she does arrive, I show her the picture on my camera of how her colleague put it up for me for the last wedding I attended.  I loved it and felt amazing with that 'do'.  'You don't want it like that, it's softer now', (says the colleague who put it up for me last time.)  Why do they do that?  If I went in to to the hairdressers and said, 'I'd like a skinhead please.'  I can understand they may say, well I don't actually think that would suit you.  But if I want my hair up in a certain way... the way they did it before, a really classic and lovely way, why can't I have that?

Anyway, it was fine, not totally happy with it but it was OK.  Really need to learn how to do myself though, it cost and arm and a leg.

I got home at 9.30am from the hairdressers and we were aiming to leave at 10, I still had my nails to do, finish my make-up and to dress and check overnight bag.

I spent most of the hour long journey to the church in silence, I was just tense about what may occur, whilst hoping for the best.

The church was beautiful, old, small, intimate, full of character.  There really aren't that many of us but we filled the space, it couldn't have been more perfect.

I thought I was tough enough to withstand the service.  I've been to several cousin's weddings, one nephew's wedding and several friends, plus two sister's.  So I thought that I was tear-proof, experienced enough to make it through the service, but I did almost lose it.  Within a very traditional service, the love between PQ and K was palpable and very touching. 

With the formalities over, the bride and groom exited the church and so did the rest of us, within five minutes, the heavens had opened and my giant brolly had me, two of my grown up cousins and a baby cousin sheltered beneath it.  After a few minutes longer, with the wind picking up, we all retreated back inside the church to shelter and where, happily, tea, coffee and biscuits had been laid on. 

So the bride, unbeknownst to us had arrived by Ferrari, driven by proud Dad.  After a few photos, in between showers, the bride and groom left by said Ferrari.  It was amazing, seeing them drive off in that amazing car with the traditional tin cans tried to the back with string. 

The day was long, but in a good way.  We chatted, mingled, ate, had a little wine, it was a perfect day.

I caught up with my cousin's, some of whom I haven't seen for a few years, and it was just lovely.  At 1.15am, we all toddled off to bed.  Another occasion, another moment in time.

Gorgeousness Personified

I have been ogling this gorgeous burnt orange dress from Warehouse which is just stunning.  It looks like a Victoria Beckham style, if you can remember one of her first collections.  Sleeveless, mid calf, pencil skirt, fitted bodice with delicate pleating detail close to the high neck and a stunning, crossover at the back which leaves your mid back to waist level exposed.  I've been eyeing it up for days, every time I walked past the shop on my hunt for earrings for the wedding, I'd look longingly at it.

After my coffee-through-a-straw, I wandered a little, I didn't feel too bad, bit of a headache but starting to thaw.  After looking around the sales in a few shops, I headed into, "the" shop, and there it was, looking gorgeous.

I had to try it on didn't I?  It took a bit of patience getting into it with the crisscrossing going across the back, had my hand through the wrong hole a couple of times.  When I did get it on, adjusted and smoothed down.  Wow. 

Before you get excited, it didn't quite fit, it wasn't too far off but my bum was just too big for the pencil skirt, only just too big I should add and what didn't enhance it was the fact that I was wearing lace kickers, so I additionally looked like I had the worst, cellulite ridden backside you've ever seen in your life.  (Desperately wanted to explain orange peel effect to shop assistant but decided against it in the end and tried not to turn all the way around while I was looking at myself in the mirror.)

If I lost a few lbs and wore the right underwear, it would look amazing, I may end up getting it just to admire and not even wear... ever.  That would be just fine, it's so gorgeous.

Root Canal

Did I tell you that I needed a root canal?  Well I've needed one since, well, I was told I needed one in June and my appointment was finally this morning.  As petrified as I am, I just couldn't wait to go this morning and I arrived twenty minutes early, I just wanted to get it done.  Yes, I need a root canal but I need to get rid of the abscess that I've been carting around for weeks, even more.

The appointment was at my usual place but I had never seen this dentist before, he was lovely, talked ten to the dozen and sounded just like 'Fronk' from "Father of the Bride".  It was so distracting but in a really great way, beneath the rubber damn thingummy stretched across my mouth, I was often trying not to smile, he wasn't even joking, I just couldn't stop thinking about Fronk as he chatted away.

A couple of hours later, I'm sipping coffee through a straw, feeling a bit tingly and still numb, but not too bad.  It's only half done, unsurprisingly, there is quite a bit of infection so we, Fronk and I, need to see if it settles before the final filling goes in.  I return to Fronk in a few weeks, fingers crossed it's good enough for the wedding next week, for now, I'm wearing some kind of medicated temporary ensemble.