This morning I took the bull by the horns…..Or possibly the elephant by the trunk…….I decided to weigh myself for the first time in months! Oh I knew I’d put on weight. I had to go up a dress size ( well jeans) and even they are getting tight on me. I thought I was prepared for anything!
I stepped gingerly onto the scales and the numbers came up. Sigh of relief when I realised they weren’t in stones……A few more minutes of blissful ignorance until I made the conversion.
Then………aagghhhhhhhh……No that can’t be true I’d be going up a bus size not a dress size!
Took off my sketchers and PJs…..They’re very heavy …..Kept on my unicorn socks ( they give me comfort) and tried again.
The numbers dropped by 1 lb 😭
WAIT! 1 lb!!!!!! I thought I was weighing myself in kilos 😂
Another conversion rate tells the truth……Not great but hey I lost over 10 stone just in doing the conversation so pass me some cake ……I’ll diet tomorrow
All jeans sorted into three piles
1. We’ve got this
2. Don’t give up on us baby
3. Are you for real
You may call it middle age spread……I prefer to call it chocolate spread!
Well not quite “dirty” but certainly not what I was expecting. At the tender age of 52 I was thinking I’d love to do a dance class for fitness. A friend suggested I came along to her burlesque class. Now I shouldn’t have been surprised but I was. There were subtle clues I totally missed
1. The friend was in her early 20’s
2. The class was in a pole dancing studio
3. We were told to bring feather boas
4. It was called “burlesque”
I’m not sure quite what I expected but what I didn’t expect was the friend (and instructor )to be in her underwear (although my husband wanted to join the following week when I told him) . Nor did I expect to have to dance seductively……My seducing days were long last……Actually I’m pretty sure I missed out on them completely.
The highlight of my night was learning how to remove my stocking “seductively”.I think what made it even more interesting was that I wasn’t wearing stockings but I was given a thick woolly over-the-knee sock as a substitute.
Now I don’t want you to have nightmares but just picture a 52 year old lady in T-shirt and leggings seductively removing a big woolly sock and you’ll see why I never made it to a second class. I think I need to work on my moves 😳🙈
I’m a dog lover -always have been- but I’m always willing to help out a animals in distress. I’ve chased cows in high heels ( to be fair they don’t run fast in high heels 😉) I’m always looking out for sheep that might need rolling over (Google it if you don’t know …..I’m not here to educate). So I’m appealing to all horse owner please keep your horses secure!
I’m tired of standing in the road late at night or early morning trying to slow down traffic while drivers toot recklessly at “the mad woman in onesie playing with her horse in the middle of the road”
I know nothing about horses…..Except they’re big and I don’t ever want to see what happens when one collides with a car!
My poor husband’s face the night he was wakened out of bed by banging at the door and came down to find me and a very large, strange horse looking through the glass!
“I don’t care what you say Deborah under no circumstances are you bringing that into our house!”
I only wanted him to ring the police for me 😂
So if you see a woman in a onesie or in a dress and high heels with a horse, or a cow in the middle of the road please slow down! Better still offer to help even if only by phoning the police! She is either just trying to stop an accident……Or she needs locked up for her own good…..Or possibly both 😜
How are the two connected? Well they’re not really except that they were both times when I ended up looking slightly crazy while trying to do the right thing.
Let’s start with the boob as I know that’s why you’re here.
Any woman who has found a lump in her breast knows the fear that courses through you…..But thankfully for 9 out of 10 of us those lumps will turn out to be something harmless. In my case they’re cysts. Once I found one and as usual made a GP appointment to have it checked out. Knowing how busy doctors are and wanting to make life simple I marked the spot with a big black x …..And went to work.
Later that day I explained to the GP why I was there and undressed for the examination telling her ( smugly) I’d marked the lump with felt tip…….What had started out that morning as a small neat black “x” was now a big blue smudge covering the whole of my breast! I have the most professional GP ever! She excused herself , left the room briefly then returned acting as if a blue boob was something she examined every day of the week 🙈
Pocahontas was again one of those times were things took an expected turn. I was a nursery teacher and we were having a fancy dress party at school- see straightforward so far).I decided to be Pocahontas and to wear my costume to and from school as I was going straight there and home…..I thought.
Getting there wasn’t an issue, the party went well and the children loved my costume. Then for the drive home.
Well, along the busiest road on my journey home, in rush hour traffic, I spotted a tiny dog running back and forward dodging cars and lorries and no-one was stopping! So I did….I stopped and I chased and I risked life and limb getting tooted at……but I got it safely back to its home were the owner snstched it from me without a word and closed the door in my face! I was livid. I went home and told my husband the whole sorry tale!
“I get why you’re annoyed” he said ” you see an ungrateful owner whose dog you saved…… However…….I see a woman who opens her door, sees a lunatic in war paint standing there holding her dogs so grabs it and gets herself and it safely inside and phones the police! The sight of you running around like that in broad daylight was likely to cause more accidents then the dog!”
Just as well I wasn’t in my pirate costume then 🤔
You know those conversations you start with your husband that go
“I heard Bertie and Maisie barking in the garden and I knew Nala and Minnie must be there so I left Finn in the sitting room and climbed out of the window….”
So my husband replied “I’m so glad that I remembered to add that to the end of my list of what I wanted in a wife….. Must climb out windows”
I didn’t climb out because I’m crazy. I climbed out because it was the shortest route to where I wanted to go…..which is the story of my life….. look for a shortcut! Shortcuts aren’t always the best idea. Looking for short cuts andmaking impulsive decisions are the things I’d like to change about myself…….But I can’t find a shortcut!
Take the time the rubber seal along the driver’s window of my wee Ford fiesta kept popping out of place. I could have taken it to the mechanic, I could have taken the door panel off and put it back into place……But I went for the shortcut. I wound the window down (no electric windows) and hit the seal with a rubber mallet………There was a loud tinkling of glass. Vigorous winding of the handle and no window appeared. I now decided to take the door panel off……..And discovered thousands of tiny pieces of shattered glass where my window should have been 😭
Or the day I decided I didn’t want our ancient piano any more……So I opened the front door and pushed it down the steps…….Then I had to phone my husband and tell him to be very careful driving into our drive as there was a piano lying smashed all over the stones and it was too heavy for me to move. It was too heavy for him to move too so he had to avoid crashing into it until we got some strong men with a van to move it for us 💪
Or the day I decided finished school for the year and decided I wanted a semi-circular table instead of a circular table. It is so much easier to saw a table in two than to put it back together again . Oh yes and by “finished school” I was a teacher at the time not a pupil 😳
No starting today I’m going to try to be less impulsive and stop looking for shortcuts…….But not until after I finished painting around the wardrobe 🖌
Today I got very excited reading a post entitled
“10 reasons men prefer women over 40”
YES! I thought! I am still an attractive woman….. and then as quickly as the elation arrived it departed. By “over 40” they probably mean 40-42…….45 at a stretch….on a good day…….in low lighting……with Botox.
I wasn’t just “over 40” I was WELL over 40 and fairly motoring past 50 too! How did that happen??? When did it happen????
Just the other day I was 30 and struggling with three small children…… except for the days when I (apparently) introduced my friend and neighbour to pancakes with Bailey’s Cream…..at 11am 😳
Now if you don’t know what Bailey’s Cream is I’m not telling you and your life will never be as rich as mine. If you do know and don’t like it then you’re reading the wrong blog.
I feel I should point out that this was not something that we regularly did at 11am. It was obviously a very special occasion…….Like Christmas, a birthday, mum’s and toddlers day. That was always special. That one day week when you got to catch up with other mums and discuss things that only mothers know the universe pivots on……..like “should you call the doctor if your toddler’s nappy has green poo?” or “is it normal for snot to be yellow a week after a cold?” Im well aware it is no longer PC to have “Mothers” and toddlers group but it was in the early 90’s. Dad’s stayed at home struggling alone.
We mums, on the other hand, had a cuppa and a scone and came home reassured that all was well in our world.
So what I was saying is I’m exactly the same inside as I was then (unless that polyp was there then because it’s been removed since). I look in the mirror and I think I look the same outside. Then I look at two photos side by side and reality hits me 😫
I should never have had my hair permed ……Other than that things haven’t changed ……Pass the Bailey’s…..