Today is the last day of a few days off – no particular reason for time off – just something to break up February and offer the chance of getting some things done around the house. To that end, I have failed miserably and I don’t know why but I just couldn’t face starting a project: perhaps, because there are so many things that need attention and I feel overwhelmed. I then play games with myself all day that I will start emptying a closet in a minute, then after a snack and before you know it, yes, I have been on the computer looking at items I will literally never buy or getting lured down a rabbit-hole of dire political forecasts.
I hate to be such a cliché but there it is. Continue reading
The General and I were having our usual Sunday morning coffee discussion group today (only 2 people permitted, dressing gowns required) and listening to a superb documentary about “grey divorce” which caused us to sit exchanging (sometimes worried glances) as women discussed either having to leave their partners of many decades or being left themselves, each terrifying for different reasons. Of course, for the person who leaves, that ‘terror’ could often be called excitement; the beginning of something new; or a totally fresh start sponged clean of predictability, routine and those little pyramids of toenail clippings in the tub. (Editor’s Note). Continue reading
It’s been ages since I posted here and I have been wittering and fretting about whether or not to even continue the blog, but ultimately, it’s a good discipline for a writer and frankly, the most instant way I know to be published. Which is often satisfying. All of this can make one feel extremely down of course (particularly when combined with a nasty virus that has only just released its claws from me) and I have spent rather too much time dwelling on Donald Trump, my own money worries, Black Mirror which I will never watch again as I only slept 92 minutes after watching two episodes, Donald Trump again, repetitively bad Tarot card readings and the atrophying effect that lack of collagen is wreaking on my person, which I like to confirm daily by going to the worst lit mirror in our house and hanging upside down.
I believe that this act may be the evil twin of doing Positive Affirmations.
Oh, and also wondering if I should be scanning the Book of Revelation with a fresher, keener eye for detail since the world we are living in at the moment seems poised for something that is um, not greatness. Continue reading
I cannot imagine the following anecdote ever happening now, (especially when I consider the many superior ‘Yummy Mummies’ I often encounter) but back in the day, one of my own mother’s favourite go-to activities to amuse me (in a pinch) was the privilege of reorganizing her handbag for her.
I know, I know; but I really liked doing it and felt important knowing that I had been entrusted with such an intimate and grown-up task.
Once I had corralled together all the rumpled tissues that were still scented with Chanel No.5 and helped myself to a stick of Wrigley’s spearmint gum, I moved on to the trio of lipsticks found in one of the pockets. The trio seldom varied and obviously, I tried each one (this goes without saying) but I assessed the packaging first, deciding which was the most elegant, the slimmest, the most bejeweled.
The names were also of great import to me and I think I can safely say, that I trace back my fascination for getting just the right name for a colour (something my friends universally tease me about even now, asking what colour their dress is and then saying “Oh, come ON – aren’t you going to say Electric Tomato or Cant-Elope with Me” etc.etc.).
Maybe I should have been in marketing for OPI nail polish – we just don’t know — but I can say with some conviction that it all began with these few lipsticks found in the scented depths of my mum’s purse. Continue reading