Twist and shout...

Can you hear me cheering from where you are sitting?  At last, after at least three weeks of sitting in the lounge with enough layers on to ensure that I bore no resemblance to the female form (ie, everything went out rather than in and out), the husband has finally conceded that it may be time to put the heating on.  The decision was made a couple of mornings ago after a run in with his pyjamas.

These are kept for desperate measures, and on Monday night when I went up for my shower, they were laid reverently over the radiator in readiness for bed.  Waking up on Tuesday morning, the husband stated that he 'wasn't going to wear his leisure wear again'.  (He can't bring himself to call them pyjamas, based on the fact that he got them as a freebie on a long haul Virgin flight).  'I thought you liked your jammies'.  This word is considered even worse than pyjamas, but full advantage of a man's weaknesses must always be exploited.  His response?  'I reckon I've lost weight over the summer because they are too big.  Look at my legs.  They look like a couple of Helter Skelters.  I've been doing the Twist all night'.

Well I couldn't deny it.  Not that I would have done anyway, sensing a thaw where the thermostat was concerned. So the leisure wear has done the long walk to the spare room cupboard, where it will reside with one ski sock, two thermal tops for a 12 year old, a pair of dubious looking speedos and a 'miracle bra' which definitely did not do what it said on the tin.

So now we are lovely and warm again...just in time for November,

But there is still one more day left of October, and as well as it being Halloween, it's also my 56th birthday.

I struggle when I tip over from any age with a 5 at the end, and this is all down to that daft game you used to see at the funfair.  'Pick a ticket!  Any one with a zero or five on it is a winner!'

It was ok going to 51, but 56?

Definitely no cheap, Korean teddy bear with two uneven eyes for me this year...