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Picture this...

Thermal vest.....check Thermal socks.....check Thick walking trousers....check Scarf....check Thermal lined gloves....check Bobble hat.....check Christmas present coat which will keep you walk up to -50....check
After ten minutes of layering up, I was finally ready for my half hour walk with the dogs this morning before work.  I don't know whether you got the ten minute Arctic blizzard around 8.00 this morning, but I wasn't taking any chances with my walking apparel as you can tell.
Stepping outside, the dogs gave me that 'where's our cold weather apparel then?' look, and I dragged them across the now white field to do their ablutions.  There's something very special about your footprints being the first ones in snow, and although I am pretty sure that I am always the first dog walker in the field (no one else is that daft) actually seeing them is pretty special.  
It always reminds me of that scene in The Shining where the kids retrace their snowy footsteps to avoid th…
Recent posts

Damn it, Janet...

There is a good chance that I have to don my bikini in five weeks' time.  While you digest that fact, there is in fact, a rather more concerning event on the horizon.  This is more worrying as it's the week before the one where I have to don my bikini, so my legs will still have that mottled blue look like all of us British gals sport between November and April.
Some time ago, I suggested to Mrs S that she and her daughter (my god daughter) go out for the night with me and daughter number two (her god daughter....I hope you're keeping up).  There were a lot of suggestions bandied around such as tea at the Ritz or a day in a spa, but as we've already done those things, we settled on a live showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
'We are dressing up for this, aren't we?'  This was posed as a 'question' from Mrs S.  Having known her for almost thirty years now, I was very aware that this statement (for that is what it was) had no need for a question ma…

Makin' plans...

The last twenty four hours has been a very good example of one of The Father's favourite expressions.
'Order, Counter Order, Disorder'.
Appointments have been scuppered, meetings cancelled, meetings rearranged and then cancelled again and as a result of this, I don't know whether I'm on my derriere or my elbow.  
Last night was my Monday Pilates session.  Reluctantly hauling my leggings and warm coat on, I opened the door to leave, only to find myself face to face with my best friend Mrs S who'd popped in for a chat on her way home from work.  'You've got ten minutes', I said, settling myself down in a chair at the kitchen table.  Well we talked and we talked and generally put the world to rights.  'You better go', said Mrs S looking at her watch.  
Glancing up at the kitchen clock, I said to her, 'Not much point going now.  The class started half an hour ago, and by the time I get down there, it'll all be stretching down and whale music…

Sleepyhead...

The party on Saturday night took quite a toll on the husband.  Having refused me access to the remote control so that I could watch the snooker (I know, don't judge me) the husband dozed on and off all though his programme of choice, a repeat of a repeat of a repeat of Top Gear.  It was then onto Ski Sunday.  He stayed awake long enough to find out where the show was coming from this week, and promptly fell asleep yet again. Finally managing to wrestle the remote control from his vice like grip (this prompted a slurred, 'I'm not asleep'), I switched over to watch Countryfile.  Perfect Sunday viewing when you've had a late night and are looking for some gentle entertainment.
I'll be honest with you, there were a couple of moments on Countryfile when I glanced over to the husband to see whether it was him snorting or the gorillas on the show, but I simply turned the volume up a little to drown him out and watched my programme to the end.
As the credits came on, the…

Dancing queen...

Oh the joys of the menopausal migraine....
Of course, I am blaming the dreaded hormone deficiency, but could it have been down to the consumption of the equivalent of my body weight in Quality Streets?  Or the Prosecco over New Year?  Or maybe the eight square inch piece of remaining Christmas cake which was polished off over four days?
Well whatever it was, it caused quite a ruckus in the Bird House, as I floated through seventy two hours on a pink cloud mainly comprised of Anadin, my special migraine tablets and bed.  The tablets I get from the doctor are pretty hardcore, and leave me with a mouth like the bottom of a parrot's cage.  I did manage to get into work (not sure I actually achieved much, but like Elvis, at least I was in the building) and Master P and Master J kept the fragile fossil in the corner of the Sales Cupboard tanked up with many mugs of tea.  Talking of tea, the husband did raise the possibility that my beverage of choice might actually be the cause of my head…

Cuts both ways...

Percy and Reg were back at the groomers this morning for a 'Wash 'n' Blow. If you remember from blogs gone by, Reg always seems to be rather closely clipped around the undercarriage, leaving me imagining him reversing into the groomer's clippers with a 'Yeah, baby', a la Austin Powers.  Today was no different, although the area of close shave was a lot larger than usual.  
Following the two fuzzy bottoms along the path this afternoon, I took a closer look at Reg's rear end.  It was pink.  Now I'd understand if it was grey or black, but pink?  Checking Percy's rear end which was definitely grey, I glanced back at Reg (he'd stopped for some rabbit hole investigation, so I had a chance for a closer look).  It was definitely pink.
This is what I reckon had happened.  Not content with the 'standard Schnauzer cut' which I had asked for, he had demanded a Grade 1 over his backside.  I would imagine that the conversation (if he could talk) would h…

Patience...

What's that they say about patience paying off?  
People who know me always say that I am the most impatient person they know, but there are some things that are definitely worth waiting for.  If you remember (trawling back to the giddiness of Christmas) the husband went down on one knee and presented me with a beautiful eternity ring, celebrating forty years since we snogged at an under 16's disco.  This was bought from my local jeweller, a chap who I've been going to for over twenty five years.  Over the years, I have bought various items from him, had rings reset and repaired and sometimes (a little bit sneakily) gone in to get my diamonds buffed up.  We are now on first name terms, so you'll understand that I didn't want anyone to mess around with my gorgeous eternity ring other than him.  It was a tad small you see and needed stretching out a bit to fit my sausage fingers.  
As of today, I have been waiting for Christmas to end, waiting for the Bank Holidays to …