Sunday, 10 April 2016

My generation...

Words from a Bird.  Day 101.

Today has been one of those days which started well, and ended even better.

There's nothing like a morning of retail therapy with a best friend to kick a Saturday off.  What makes it better is when almost every item of clothing you try on is too big, so that you have to ask in a VERY LOUD VOICE, for the next size down.  Most satisfying...

We had kicked off with coffees and scones (it's a middle aged lady thing) in a café within a department store.  Now I quite like the clothes in this store, but my good friend is of the opinion that the store is for ladies a lot older than we are.  This was confirmed in the café by the group of ladies standing at the counter.  I christened them 'Fifty Shades of Beige'.  Their hair colour (Golden Wheat and Apricot Frost) merged beautifully with the beige waterproofs (you can't be too careful at this time of the year) and the robust, but functional shoes, and it was almost impossible to distinguish them from the slightly suspect Victoria sandwich cake and flapjacks which were laid out on the counter.  This is not an accidental pun, they were that close to death (the baked offerings, not the customers.  Although, now I come to think of it, there were a couple of old girls in the queue who may not have made it as far as the till).

So suitably tanked up with caffeine, Mrs W and I hit the shops, returning back to our respective cars three hours later, looking like a couple of pack mules.  At least £1.00 had been spent on carrier bags alone.  I had actually planned on replenishing the food cupboards after the general exodus of large children yesterday, but spent the money on a pair of jeans and two T-shirts instead.  It's all about priorities you see.  If I look great, the husband won't mind that his meals this week will be slightly sub-standard.  (Even more so after son number 1's edible offerings this week).

The day just got better with a little flutter on the Grand National.  As four of my five horses scampered over the finishing line, I started counting my winnings (a calculator was needed for this).  It was at this point that the husband reminded me that he had paid half of the bet, therefore half my winnings had to go his way.....

Just as well I won a bit though.  It means we'll eat this week after all....
Post a Comment