Sheer heart attack...

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And so endeth another weekend of birthday celebrations...

Never mind being 56 this year, after the last five days, you could add another twenty years to that and I would still be struggling.  It's been a busy few days starting with a night Oop North with son number two and the gorgeous Miss M who is featuring very strongly in his life.  I love watching our children falling in love and making a life with their partners.  I'm not quite ready to buy any head wear as yet, but I have high hopes for all of them.  

So Leeds.  Always loud.  Always busy and to date, always wet.  I had a great day with son number two and the main reason for this is that I was able to actually get a new item of clothing.  Before you start yelling at me about my new year's resolution, I am happy to say that no money changed hands. My devious best friend, Mrs S, bought me a shirt for my birthday.  Thinking outside the box, she had picked a shirt that I wouldn't like in a month of Sundays, and which was also two sizes too big.  There was nothing for it.  I had to EXCHANGE it for another item of clothing.

As you all know, I haven't stepped across the threshold of any changing room for more than ten months and I cannot even start to tell you how excited I was.  I sashayed into the changing room three times, with various items of clothing, finally settling on a beautiful dress which will certainly earn its keep over the next few months.  Son number two managed to stick with me right up to the second Charge of the Frock Brigade, at which point he disappeared, muttering about something important he needed to do.  I would imagine that boiling his head would have been right up there along with sticking needles in his eyes, but it was my birthday so I didn't care.

While in Leeds, I decided to go into a hairdressers.  I have been trying to grow my hair, but it is a problem when you have crazy curls life I have.  The weight of the longer hair had pulled out the curls up to the last three or four inches which resembled  some wire wool.  Subsequently, I had a triangle shaped head - not attractive.

It was all going rather well, until she told me to put my head between my knees while she reclaimed my curls with the help of some industrial strength mousse and a hairdryer.

'Up you come then', she said in her sing song voice...

Well.  As I didn't want to resemble an aging 1970's hippy chick for the rest of the day, there was only one thing for it.

I had to buy a hat...


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