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Keeping myself busy

If you could see me now - gone are the days of the power dressing and high heels - now its just salad dressing and flip flops.

keeping busy working out how to post follow up to keeping busy
Monday, May 30, 2011 @ 2:50 PM

 

             Well I am plodding on with my little venture, making my lovely chains for spectacles and I have had loads of response since my last blog, I haven’t sold any chains but I have had loads of thumbs up for the blog. I didn’t think anyone would read it and I was really surprised. Thanks everyone for taking the time to read it. I am now donating part of the profits from the chains to the local animal charity, needless to say with my sales to date they aren’t planning any major improvements to the shelter ......but from little acorns. And thanks to everyone who is donating their old broken dress jewellery and stuff with beads on, I am so grateful, keep it coming. I was even given a fab pair of sandals with loads of beads on so don’t restrict yourself to just jewellery.  
 
             Following on from what a difference a day makes, I have to accept that less than 5 years ago I was a 50 something single ‘cougar’ having a whale of a time.............now, well, now I am a whale with the speed of a cougar through  constantly having to chase my own tail ! In fact come to think of it the only real resemblance I have to a cougar nowadays are the every growing whiskers and rapidly expanding feet with claw like toe nails.  
 
               But old habits die hard, I still feel the need to apply a coat of mascara before putting on me coat....... so to speak. In the old days I guarantee you I could not have a sensible conversation with out my mascara, honest to god  speech evaded me until I had applied at least 5 coats of Max Factor, a spit and polish type mascara, for those of you old enough to remember it was in a little blue case and you had to spit on the brush then rub it over the rock hard block of gunky mascara until there was sufficient on the brush to coat your lashes. A very long and tedious task but the end results were rather spectacular, especially if you favoured the Dusty Springfield look. But in retrospect and in these days of health and safety I don’t think it was a very clean way of achieving long luscious lashes, although again in retrospect maybe a bit of spit with its added nutrients did my lashes the world of good,  come to think of it they must be the only part of my body to have remained the same over the years. It was a fabulous product though and always gave me the added confidence to look someone straight in the eye and say what I had to say. There were exceptions however, as with everything and it was not advisable to have a conversation whilst checking on anything cooking in the oven,   the whoosh of heat  upon opening the oven would hit you straight in the face forcing  you to slam tight your eyes for a  second, but even this briefest of moments was long enough to begin a melting process of the mascara which turned it into a sort of eyelash superglue and the end result was very embarrassing. I would spend the next 5 minutes trying to continue the conversation in an intelligent manner whilst at the same time trying to prize my eyes apart one at a time.   This used to happen so often my husband used to say go ask the ‘winker'  in the kitchen. Well I think that was what he said. 
 
 
        At times despite knowing better, I also feel the need to don high heels once again. Not that often, but as I am only 5’2 ½” on a good day I sometimes need to make myself visible and by making myself taller and wearing the 5 coats of mascara, I do just that,  it’s as if I suddenly re-appear to the world and get noticed.    But, not always for the right reasons, as  this usually turns into a fiasco because  I just can’t manage to walk in them for any length of time anymore. I get about as far as the fruit and veg aisle in Carrefour and have to admit defeat and put them in my bag, or better still I  carry them around pretending the heel has broken, (yep on both.........at the same time.............just don’t make them like they used to !) but   for those of us old enough to remember Billy Dainty there is distinct resemblance between me and him walking in heels , especially if I am wearing leggings !!! God forbid, if anyone ever sees me in high heels and leggings please contact the appropriate authorities there and then. 
 
         I actually don’t go shopping very often these days. I feel I should but the need is no longer there, who do I need to impress up on this mountain, the dogs and the kids certainly don’t mind if my shoes don’t  match my bag or my top doesn’t hide  my ever increasing lumps and bumps. Talking of which, tops that is, not lumps and bumps, my last outing to the shops with my little girl ended in disaster when I went in a particularly nice boutique which was having a sale,  all i wanted was a nice little strapless top to hide those little lumps and bumps which I mentioned before that no-one cares about except me. I must have been in there an hour at least and everyone was getting fed up, including me, when hey presto I found it, a really pretty little top that could have been made for me, I went in and tried it on. In,  I might mention....  the changing room from hell !!!!! do you know I couldn’t even bend over  to pull my leggings up unless I put my head out through the curtains and pretended I was looking for my little girl, (did I just say leggings............sorry Jeans ) so anyway I digress..........seem to do that a lot these days too......sign of old age maybe.............or just no-one to talk to on the mountain so it all comes out in an incomprehensible stream of drivel at times............back to that top, it fitted perfectly and did just what I wanted it too, so I went out into the shop which by now had several irate ladies queuing up to get into that changing room though why some of them were even considering it I don’t know, I thought I had problems , reminds me of the day I sat opposite an enormous lady in the hairdressers and was squeezing my 5 year olds hand as hard as I could because I just knew he would say something..........and lo and behold he didn’t, I was so relieved I eased the pressure on this little fingers probably just in the nick of time as they were beginning to change colour and I breathed a sigh of relief only for him to say “See Mummy, I never said that lady was fat did I ?”    Children eh....bless ‘ em.  So there I was admiring myself in the mirror, pretty little strapless top hanging nicely over my lumps and bumps and the assistant said, “Excuse me madam, but that’s not meant to be worn like that “ must admit she stumped me there, I had, I admit,  in the past put tops on back to front.......but not in this shop and I had checked the label was at the back before I put it on and the neckline wasn’t around my navel or any other part o;f my anatomy which it shouldn’t have been around..............”Why” I asked in all innocence .”Because  Madam that is a SKIRT” she said through a mouth well used to sucking lemons. The look of sympathy she gave my little girl was priceless.  I was mortified of course  but my little girl had been damaged for life, to her it was the ultimate humiliation and I am now banned from shopping until I can get a grip. She was not amused and definitely viewed it as a mortal sin rather like my son who never has recovered from that day over 20years ago when I took him into Burtons in Bristol and asked for a pair of Elephant Cords. Well, easy mistake, the sales assistant knew what I meant and once he had stopped the dribbling brought on by his uncontrollable giggles he showed us some lovely jumbo cords, well I say us but it was just me in fact as my 13yr old son had by this time disappeared and was on his way back to the multi storey car park muttering. He went in the army not long after that.  
 
 
           So better go and get ready for Britains Got Talent now, wonder if could build an act around making spectacle chains, well there’s a thought.... Dusty Springfield eyes.... Billy Daintys legs.....wearing the wrong clothes at the wrong time, making the wrong things at the wrong time, sounds perfect for me.  


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1 Comments


David said:
Monday, May 30, 2011 @ 1:52 PM

wonderful, lots of dribble, but highly entertaining ha ha big hugs David xx

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