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That was the week….

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What’s been occurring people?

I had an appointment this week for an echogram scan thingumy on the old ticker.  No need for alarm parent dudes – just an MOT.   This is what I do for a hobby now that I work part time – go for random medicals tests I’d never get chance to do if I was still working at school, because a granted Leave of Absence form only appeared every hundred years (like Brigadoon).

Of course, only I could be having a scan thing to check my heart rate when the frigging fire alarm goes off at St Lukes!  “Should I be worried about that alarm?” I asked, as I lay there covered in wires and stickers on my bare chest.  “No no, it’s fine says the nurse, we only need to worry if it changes pitch”.  I try to ignore the very loud alarm and keep a calm steady heart rate.  The alarm doesn’t stop so nurse says she’ll pop outside to check.  She draws the curtain around me and leaves me there as I listen to the shouts of people in the corridor yelling “Everybody out!”
If this was a horror movie I would have eventually unpeeled my stickers and unplugged myself from the machine and wandered outside to find everyone had been taken up by the rapture, beamed up by aliens or reduced to a zombified state.  I expected nursey to crash back into the room and eat my face off any second. 


When she did return I held my breath to see if she began to snarl but no, all was well and she continued with the examination asking if I was ok?  “Sure, cool as a cucumber” I replied with a whiff of sarcasm.
She dutifully carried on and finished the exam before allowing me to go.  Alarm still blaring, through the now empty corridors and out into the carpark, where I was greeted by about a hundred staff and patients all looking at me like I was a hostage being released from a siege.  (Before, you wonder – I had got dressed and wasn’t striding outside with hospital gown flaring open and bosom akimbo!)



Later in the week after a couple of days of horrendous rain and unseasonable cold it was eldest offspring’s Prom!  Even with fancy pants nails and hair (thank you Shona Louise Bradley at Natural Beauty and Gemma at Lil Gemz) we got off lightly expense wise.  No ludicrously expensive dress, fake tans, limos or house destroying after-party.
She looked just lovely in her mini dress and silver doc martens even though I am biased of course.  

I’m just glad it went well and she enjoyed herself and it is now over!  Now I can stop my mind running off course and imagining all sorts of horrors happening.  Terrorists deciding to strike a blow for their religion of choice by taking it out on a room full of 16-year-olds. Or disgruntled students plotting some ghastly revenge. Buckets of pigs blood. Telekinetic meltdowns, that sort of thing…


No prom queen crown but I think this award is probably better …


She’s meant to be going on some citizenship scheme thing on Sunday which we booked back in November for £20.  Essentially they all go off to Jonestown or Waco or similar with Jimmy Savile and Gary Glitter to learn how to plant vegetables, cook, paddle canoes, get washed downstream whilst being led by YTS volunteers and paedophiles, while we have paid for the privilege. 


All welcome…

This was meant to be some last hurrah for them all after their exams had finished and they parted to attend different Sixth Forms.  Naturally, being 16-year-old girls, their ideas have changed and some of them aren’t even speaking to each other. So she’s changed her mind and isn’t going.

I’m kind of glad TBH.  Then I don’t have to wonder if she’s being molested in her sleep in a hostel somewhere in Shrewsbury, or that the last we see of her is when she boards a bus before being shipped off to an eastern European sex slave cartel.


Kool-Aid anyone?

Meanwhile, the weather has changed and it’s been a scorcher.  Don’t be a dick – slap on some sunscreen and drink some water!

Ciao Ciao XX

A little bit meh today…

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Today was my turn for a pre-Christmas existential crisis, possibly sparked by having a dream last night about lying under the duvet on Christmas Eve and hearing Santa delivering presents.  I then awoke to the realization that actually there was no magic in the World and everything was a bit shit.  I sat on the couch in my festival poncho to keep warm after the heating had gone off for the day, watching BBC Newsfeed and wishing I never had to hear the word Brexit ever again.  Was also mega hacked off that daughter number 1’s ‘prom’ dress she wanted (for next June) and asked me to order on Black Friday, had arrived yesterday…but she hates it. (I thought it looked lovely – but what do I know? I’m just her mother).  The retailer won’t refund unless there is actually something wrong with it – no refunds for change of heart. So that’s me taking a £110 bath and stuck with a lovely dress of no use to anyone. Certainly not me – one week away from being 47. I’m already looking forward to being 3 years closer to being able to apply for a 50+ funeral plan.  With my luck, I’ll peg it at 49 and never get my ‘free gift worth £75’.

So yes, I am feeling a bit past it just now.  No matter what colour I do my hair, the ginge shines out. I can go without sweets, cakes and booze for well over a month and still look like a lardy dough face. Smooth FM is no longer the vestige of the golden oldie. It’s now back to back ‘singalong bangers’. And my Childerbeast cringe at pretty much everything I say and do unless it involves paying for something.


Set off too early for the dentist today and ended up wandering without aim around Farsley until they unlocked the doors after their lunch break at the surgery.
Lots of salons around Farsley with lots of ladies getting pampered, trimmed, coiffured and having their nails done.  Not me!  I caught sight of myself in many a shop window and thought I looked like a character from
‘The Road’ in my trackydaks, waterproof coat, odd gloves, hoody up and big chunky scarf.  I might as well have been pushing a shopping trolley full of looted items. 


Mood only improved when one of my young swimmers presented me with a Christmas gift – bless her! And then the Bman text to ask if I wanted a lift home.

Off to bed now to get some sleep and hope that I will be back in the festive spirit tomorrow.

Ciao Ciao XX





My mind is so blank I can’t even think of a title for this

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Just watched a neighbour’s daughter head off with some pals in a limo – quite probably to their end of Primary School ‘prom’.   A Prom at 10/11 years old?  Bejebus! 

What happened to a cursory  “Good luck in High School” pat on the back from your teacher before they shut the door tightly behind you on the way out?
Now it’s all medal presentation ceremonies, red carpets past the photocopier and who’s asking who to be their date?  These kids watch too much TV!
Personally, in this neck of the woods  I think it could well go less ‘Enchantment Under the Sea’ and more ‘Carrie‘ next week when our lot have their own Prom.   Put it this way.  When I make my cameo (just to see what they’re all wearing) I’ll be hanging back near the fire doors with my eyes on the ball.  There’s plenty there who’d happily tread over me to escape in event of a telekinetic revenge attack.  


I’d love to babble further but I’m double busy, raking though 6 years worth of photos from school in order to create personalised photo CDs for 30 children (although apparently that’s not enough of a memento!)

Roll on 3pm on the 19th when I would love to mostly collapse into a heap, like a husk of my former self, where I could remain, foetal and resting  until September 2nd… except I can’t because the summer holidays fill me with dread at the prospect of having to entertain 2 argumentative childerbeast, day after day, with no drivers licence,  precious little financial resource, and even less patience.