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What's new, pussycat?

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Well ladies, I have almost managed to de-glitter myself after the weekend's events...

As you know, I was at a festival this weekend as a guest of Jolly Sock Man's parents.  Because the husband had received a better offer involving three mates, a tent and several large motorbikes, this left me free to invite best friend Mrs S as my 'plus one'.  You can imagine our utter joy when a missive arrived in my Inbox advising that Abba clothing was de rigeur as one of the bands at the festival was a tribute to the Swedish songsters.  

Rifling through my dressing up room (you might call it an airing cupboard, but since the kids departed, it's had a bit of a makeover) I failed to find anything vaguely Abbaresque, so I hit the internet, and purchased a rather fetching silver two piece which was perfect.  Mrs S naturally had something in her cupboard.  A Super Trooper poncho and a pair of modified drawers which just about covered her modesty coupled with long white boots.

Mrs S and…

I can see clearly now...

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Big news....I am writing this without the use of glasses.  This after a visit to the opticians this afternoon with me bleating about how I didn't recognise Bradley Walsh on the television last week and how the husband didn't seem to be aging at the rate I was.  The optician was a lovely chap, and after forty minutes of peering at red and green blobs, letters, circles and the inside of his left nostril (they do get up close and very personal with little warning) he came to the decision that I was needing something slightly more robust than the reading glasses I've been clinging on to for the past seven years or so.

Seeing I was a bit crestfallen, he tried to cheer me up by waving what I thought was a selfie stick under my nose.  'You see this stick?' he asked, pointing at it. 'Well no, not really', I said.  This was the cue for the clown glasses to be popped back on my nose again.  'Can you see it now?'  Yes I could. 'Yes', what's it for?&…

Dancing queen...

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Last weekend seems like a distant memory now.  Two days of floating around in floaty 'girl clothes' being ladylike and charming to all and sundry (including an over amorous Elvis).  This coming weekend couldn't be further from this...
You see, I've been invited to Jolly Sock Man's parents' house for a mini festival on Saturday.  Daughters one and two have frequented this the last three years or so, and from what little information I have been able to glean, it could be quite a boozy affair.  The reason that they haven't been able to divulge much is that the pair of them launched themselves into it so fully, that neither of them can remember a thing, other than 'the food was great' and 'there was just so much drink'.  Explains everything I suppose.
But I have asked Jolly Sock Man's parents all the right questions, so I now am in possession of the following information.
It starts at 1.00.  Mmm...day time drinking which means I'll be aslee…

Burnin' love...

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There's nothing better than floating down the river on a sunny Regatta afternoon while a middle aged Elvis impersonator belts out the King's hits.  Let me set the scene.  A two level boat which has seen better days, filled to the brim with ladies and gentlemen (some of which also fall into the 'seen better days' camp).  
There was alcohol of course.  Let's face it, once you get past sixty or so, red wine takes on the same category as a glass of milk or lemon barley, and boy, was it flowing.  So by the time Elvis hit the upper deck (where I was sitting enjoying the swans and geese on the river) the crowd were fully fired up and ready for anything.
Now I have seen this Elvis on many, many occasions and every time I forget just how rude he is.  As he walked up the stairs, I realised to my horror that I was sitting completely at the front with nowhere to hide.  I was the subject of some banter regarding fake tan and some rather lewd jokes headed my way too.
Speaking of no…

Messin' around on the river...

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Every year I say the same thing...that one year, Henley Regatta will be the death of me.  You'll be pleased to hear that it wasn't this year (well so far, still got tomorrow afternoon to get through, and as that involves a boat and the wet stuff, anything could happen).  But it was close...
The trouble is that we always have some/all of the children with us, and they are very good at leading me astray.  Daughter number one and Little Miss Tiny were most generous with the Aperol Spritz (my new drink of choice) and my the time our friends collected us to go to Henley, I was well on the way.  I had a very wide hat on, as befitting Regatta, and worked out pretty quickly that I couldn't go through a standard doorway face on (I managed to wipe out Little Miss Tiny on the way to the front door) so the rest of the afternoon was spent listing slightly to one side to get the hat through various doors without having a head on collision with all the other hats on parade.  

Mind you, by …

Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Doo...

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What is the correct etiquette where a mobile phone call is concerned?  This morning, I was desperately trying to get hold of my sister, Miss R.  (Very important phone call to find out what she's wearing to Henley Regatta tomorrow).
So she answered the phone, we spoke for about three and a half seconds before she said in a frustrated voice, 'No.  You've gone all fuzzy'.  Cutting the call, I then pressed redial to call her back.  In my mind, I had made the original contact, so it was my responsibility to try again.
It was engaged.  Three times.
So while I was under the impression that the person who made the call should be the one who keeps trying to connect, it would appear that Miss R operated under a completely different agenda, ie that I made the first call, so now it's her turn to call me.  To be honest with you, taking this and the fact that I seem to live somewhere with the mobile network of Mars, I am surprised that we ever manage to talk.
And to top all that, I …

Spend, spend, spend...

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What is it that they say about when 'the cat's away'?  Well in my case, it's 'When the cat's way the old bird in charge of the house goes shopping for all sorts of stuff which she didn't even know she needed'.
The husband was away last night you see, and having walked the woofers (twice), done all the washing and clearing up, and done a stint at Binland, I really had nothing left to do except look for a pair of shoes to go with my dress for the renewal of vows in August.  It took me almost three weeks to get all four girls sorted with dresses, but surprisingly, I was slightly easier, and my dress arrived yesterday after a short discussion with my lovely friend who runs this fabulous vintage shop near me.  Take a look at what she does on Facebook (www.facebook.com/emmasvintagestyle/) and you'll get an idea of what I have planned for the Graceland Memorial Chapel on the 7th August.  It's frills all round ladies.
So with my dress bought, tried on and…