Saturday 23 August 2008

Sunday Scribblings - How I met the love of my life...

OK, so it hasn't actually happened yet, or maybe it has and I missed it... bugger, how pants would that be? If it's for you it won't go past you as my Mother says. Mind you she also says things like "There's nothing like a well ironed gusset..." and means it, anyway back to me and the love of my life. This is how I imagined it might be... I arrive somewhere intriguing (fuzziness on the background here due to the location changing constantly) possibly in Montana, or possibly New Zealand... no, no I know! Beside a beach on Tiree... I swing a long slim leatherclad leg (mine, it is a fantasy) as I dismount my motorbike, take my helmet off and shake loose my long auburn mane of hair. As I stand and breathe the air and watch the sunset I become aware that I am not alone. Standing nearby watching me with a slight smile on his rugged yet sensitive face (I'm thinking Tom Berenger and Gabriel Byrne melange here) is a tall, rangy man wearing jeans, cowboy boots, a checked shirt, suede waistcoat and a stetson (Hey, it's my fantasy ok!?). Our eyes meet and in that moment we know...

At this point there's a fair amount of waves pounding the shore and trains in tunnels imagery going on.

Do you think that hanging around small town Scotland is the way to meet rangy cowboy types? Not so far. I once met a very nice man in Ikea in Hannover who was wearing an outfit not dissimilar to that described. We had coffee. He was dutch and spoke groovy english in a lovely bingybongy kind of way. But, the spark, it just wasn't there - he was a lorry driver not a real cowboy.

Friday 22 August 2008

Thursday Thirteen #1

Thirteen things that became clear to me this week...
  1. I have lost a day. It's not Thursday it's Friday... where the bloody hell have my holidays gone?! Washed away by the rain it would appear.

  2. Just turning up at the Slimming World class is not enough ... apparently diet and exercise are needed too...

  3. Holly is about half an inch shorter than I am and yet her breasts are about 8 inches higher up than mine. Did I ever even have perky bosoms? I think that in retrospect jumping up and down a lot to entertain Gill by having bouncing boobs was probably a mistake, the downward slide (avalanche) almost certainly started then.

  4. I am not going to be Carol Vorderman's replacement on Countdown - I did the quizzy thing in today's paper and now know that Dad was right - I can't add up.

  5. Tyres are not cheap. The ones on the car are getting a tad baldy and short of giving the tread a comb over new ones will need to be bought.

  6. August might be a wicked month but it is not a warm one. I put the winter duvet back on the bed last night and slept a full night's sleep for the first time in ages.

  7. My eyesight's going bonkers. I now have glasses to wear because I'm short sighted, contacts because I'm vain and other glasses to wear with my contacts because I can't read anything if I have my contacts in. According to the optician this is all age related. That man is heading for a good kicking. If I could see him clearly I'd be the one to deliver it...
  8. No one but me thinks that country music is good for weddings - not even Keith Urban Making Memories of Us - which to my mind has wedding written all over it- is in. Huh.
  9. I have more body lotion than is needed for even my body. I know that it's foolish but I am always seduced by 3 for 2 offers and then I get bored before I use up all of the product.
  10. My grey hairs are growing increasingly resistant to being brown. I have dyed my hair this week and I still have grey bits - actually they're pink, the dye having taken slightly, which is even worse. I look like Mrs Slocombe.
  11. Chocolate is not a fruit. Not even Toblerones. Every day I scan the papers looking for an advance in medical science that will allow me to scoff chocolate to my hearts content.
  12. It doesn't make any difference at all if you are nice to some people or not - they will be compete and utter berks no matter what.
  13. Writing 13 things is tougher than it looks!

Thursday 14 February 2008

Adventure Training for non adventurous people

Now that my sister Jo is the mother of a teenager, a pre-teen and a pre-pre-teen I know for a fact something that I had long suspected. Mothers do it on purpose. The "accidental" humiliation is nothing of the sort - it is calculated and designed. Many's the time Jo has snorted merrily with laughter at the result of some horrifying event such as "kissing Dad in public" or "wearing that!".... But even she drew the line at making her teenage daughter take paper knickers on her Outdoor Adventure Holiday with her school chums in Mull (or Hull - Geography not being one of Hollys strong subjects).

I on the other hand was marked and scarred for life by the paper pants incident I endured on my teenage Adventure Holiday. To this day my Mother insists she thought it would be a good idea to take paper knickers so that I wouldn't have any washing to do (knickers being strictly rationed in my day...). What she hadn't taken into consideration was how much time I would be spending messing around in water.
That's me standing looking surly at the far right of the photo - surly and knickerless, my final pair having just turned to papier mache in the crotch of my trousers leaving me with an elastic band round my waist and one at the top of each leg... much to the amusement of fellow students. Oh yes very funny. Not.

Monday 28 January 2008

Forty bleeding Six

It's my birthday today.
I'm 46.
That's a lot.

Tuesday 22 January 2008

Long time no write

I guess the initial blog related euphoria wore off for a bit there. Never mind, it's the thought that counts etc

Not only have we had Christmas and New Year since I last blogged but this weekend just gone we also had pretend Christmas. Honorary Chick in Nest, Sara, came up to see us and we had the whole Christmas Dinner thing with crackers, presents and games etc. Here is a picture of Sara and her new B.F., Ellie - who saw beyond the surface to Sara's inner beauty and told her she thought she was "pretty"... huh. I'm her aunty and she never tells me that. Bitter? Me? No, of course not...