Knackered Update
Goodness me it’s been a while. I’ve missed you! And I’ve missed writing this blog but to be honest things have changed a little.
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Any Questions?
I am what you might call a meme virgin, so very much hoping to get this right. Thank you Mrs Trefusis, for tagging me.
It’s not a fashion parade…
Or so my mother used to say to me when hurrying me out of the door to get to school on time.
Invisible (wo)Man
Someone once said – probably Germaine – that beyond a certain age, women become invisible. I’d always assumed that referred to women my mother’s age* but a funny thing happened last week that made me think it might happen sooner than anticipated. As I walked out of Topshop on Oxford Street (see how I’m fighting it?) a young hipster stood with a microphone doing a vox-pop street interview for Radio One. On what, I shall never know.
Invisible (wo)Man
Someone once said – probably Germaine – that beyond a certain age, women become invisible. I’d always assumed that referred to women my mother’s age* but a funny thing happened last week that made me think it might happen sooner than anticipated. As I walked out of Topshop on Oxford Street (see how I’m fighting it?) a young hipster stood with a microphone doing a vox-pop street interview for Radio One. On what, I shall never know.
No foreplay?
I. Am. Knackered. And I definitely can’t top my John Torode story from last week. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll go straight to the wines.
Have we met before?
Picture the scene: drinks reception for work, unfamiliar surroundings, friend introduces you to another friend. You greet them with great familiarity, you know you’ve met them before.
Carzzzzzzzzz
Last week, we got a new car. Second hand actually, but by far the most grown up car we’ve ever had. It’s the children and dog car, Bearded Husband said.
On the fringe…
I love putting pretty hairclips in my daughter’s hair, sweeping her long fringe to one side and sweeping the enforced-genderism-at-such-a-tender-age argument to the other. It’s a hairclip, FFS.
Picture perfect
Saturday night was fun, if a little wierd. I returned from eldest son’s School Ball with a splinter in my foot from shoes-off dancing.
Like a jumper in a washing machine…
It’s eldest son’s school Annual Ball for parents on Saturday night and I am looking forward to it and dreading it in equal measure.
