Words from a Bird

Have you ever said something and as the words left your mouth, you wished you had a rewind button? I was having a lovely coffee and terribly fattening cake on Wednesday afternoon with two completely gorgeous friends, when I said... 'I really want to try Zumba, but I'm terrified that it will all be a bit too much for my knees, ankles, neck and non-existent core muscles'. My two friends were really kind, and muttered something along the lines of 'how hard can it be' and 'you'll be fine', and then I suggested that it might be an idea to watch one online to get some idea as to what torture lay ahead. 'You could watch that, and then teach us how to do it', quipped Mrs W.  'You could be the Green Goddess'. I should say that I was very relieved that Mrs W said THE Green Goddess (Diana Moran, green leotard, blond hair, totally gorgeous) and not A Green Goddess (slow, square, drab green and only used in dire emergencies such as nuclear war).  Mind

So the old stiff neck saga continues... Having spent the last week constantly looking over my left shoulder, I was really looking forward to my second round of torture (sorry, treatment) with the husband's chiropractor.  When I left her last week, her parting shot was, 'how are you with needles?'  Well, I suppose it depends which type you're talking about really.   Hypodermic  needles - as long as I look away, I'm fine.  It's a shame I've not got any jabs scheduled over the next week, as my head is in exactly the right position for one of these just now. Pine needles - they block my Dyson EVERY BLOODY JANUARY. Sewing needles - never mind getting a camel through the eye of one of these, I need a hole the size of a camel to thread cotton these days.   The Isle of Wight ones?  Never been, but looks like something I might do at some point (excuse the pun). Well it turned out that she meant none of these. Today ladies, I had acupuncture. I went in with an open mi

I expect you are all wondering how the two four-legged terrorists are?  I say terrorists, but we all know that there is just one as Percy tends to fall within the Mary Poppins 'practically perfect in every way camp'.  Reg continues to be the lovable rogue he always has been, and while I see the good in him every day, it would appear that on occasions, he does throw the rule book away. Take last Wednesday for instance.  It was their six weekly trip to the groomers for a top to toe makeover for £40 each (if I could get as much work done on my face and body for forty quid, I'd be thrilled skinny).  We won't go into any great depth today about the husband offering to take the dogs to the groomer and turning a two minute journey into an hour and a half epic adventure. 'There was no one there', was his response when I called him to see if he'd forgotten to drop the boys off en route to work.  I had visions of Reg on the forklift, and Percy doing a bit of H&S p

As I write this afternoon, I am sitting in my new office chair.  Now this may seem small fry to you, but it's just about the most comfortable thing I have ever owned (DFS, take note). But lets rewind a little... Seven weeks ago, I developed a stiff neck.  Now this is quite a regular occurrence for me, as it's a gentle reminder of the head on car accident I had around thirty years ago.  Not content with almost writing my car off and having no insurance, the driver of the other vehicle also left me with a neck problem which means I look like a meerkat with piles for a couple of weeks each year, until my wonderful osteopath sorts me out.   This time was different though, and he just couldn't get me straight again, despite a minor adjustment that Hulk Hogan would have been proud of.  Then some bright spark suggested going to the new Thai Massage Salon in town to see whether they could help.  Actually, that bright spark was me, now I come to think about it.  I really should know

Apparently, January 14th is the day when most people give up the New Year's resolutions they had committed to a fortnight earlier.   I did it a bit differently this year.  My resolution was to cancel my National Lottery account, which, over the past fifteen years or so, has had a serious battering due to unfulfilled promises of unending riches.  Let's face it, if any of us were married to someone who said to us every Wednesday and Saturday that tomorrow just might be the day that changes our life, we may well have kicked them to the kerb long before my fifteen years.  So, by 10.00 on New Year's Day, my account was closed down, and I was able to be rather smug for the next 364 days. Not so the husband... 'What are your resolutions, then?' I asked him after a particularly boozy curry with Miss R and her fiancé Mr L.  This took place three days before Christmas, and Russell Brand was seated at the next table having a quiet meal with friends.  It's worth mentioning

Some time in November, on a cold, dark night, I was lost on a back road coming back from the fleshpots of Milton Keynes, having spent the evening with daughter number two and Jolly Sock Man.   I did try to use this statement as an excuse when faced with a speeding ticket a couple of weeks later to no avail, and apparently, being full of lasagne and a large bowl of crumble does not count for squat when faced with a speed camera.  This was my first speeding ticket in forty three years of driving, and the Husband has taken great delight in calling me 'Fletch' (c1980s Ronnie Barker) and referring to the kitchen as Cell Block H.  I wouldn't mind, but in our family, I am renowned for my cautious driving (son number two refers to this as 'slow'.  'If you went any slower, the car would be going backwards', is one of his favourite sayings, so you just imagine the flack I have been getting from my so-called loved ones this past month or so. But it wasn't all bad n

And so endeth another year... Like most of you, I have ended 2022 older, fatter and poorer despite various resolutions last year which, if kept, would have meant that my wrinkles, hips and finances would have been in a far better state today.  But you know, what are elasticated trousers and an overdraft for anyway?  I've taken to wearing my facemask at every opportunity now.  But that doesn't cover your wrinkles, I hear you say.  No, but at least no one knows who the raddled old bag is under the aforementioned now-acceptable disguise. It's been a funny old year.  There have been wonderful highs such as daughter number two's wedding and son number two's engagement, but there have been tricky times too.   The Mother is in the process of diagnosis for Fairy Dust Syndrome... I know that lots of you will have experience of the dreaded 'A' word, but I prefer referring it to FDS.  It seems that sometime over the past three years, she has been sprinkled with somethi