In search of a cossie.

I’ve been out this morning in search of a new swimming costume. My old one is far too big for me now, and I am determined to go swimming during this years holiday. If you remember last years holiday, the one where we endured a week in a mobile home that was shaking in gale force winds and driving rain,  I had to sit at the side of the pool jealously watching Kerri swimming back and forth in an enticing looking pool that she enjoyed all by herself. (every other camper had obviously been blown away in the gale force winds.)

K has a swim alone

I had to forgo my daily swim because I was on chemo at the time and also giving myself those Clexane injections into my tummy. This time I plan to make up for last years omission and enjoy a swim every morning as soon as the camp pool is open!  I finally chose a cossie with ‘stomach control’ (whatever that means) and of course I’ve had to purchase one for you know who as well despite the fact that her old costume is perfectly presentable and still fits her perfectly. Can’t have anything on my own, can I?

On the journey home and as is usual with the buses that run our particular route, the heat was issuing forth from the heaters but thankfully other passengers had taken the trouble to open all the windows (well, the few that were available to open that is) so we were all spared the humiliation of melting. I did consider being controversial and marching up the aisle to ask the driver if he would break with tradition and turn the heating off, you know, kid himself along that it was still winter, but then I decided that as he looked to be quite a burly surly sort of chap (hand picked for our route obviously) I decided that it was probably wiser to suffer and sweat it out.

I did become concerned though that maybe I didn’t smell too nice when the man who was forced to sit next to me as there was no more room anywhere else, proceeded to sit as far away from me as he possibly could without actually falling off the seat into the aisle, and then later to add insult to injury, as soon as a seat became vacant he dashed to it as if the hounds of hell were after him.  Not only that, but the lady and her husband who were occupying the seats directly in front of me also moved further down the bus as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Hmm. Perhaps I should get into the habit of carting my deodorant around with me on my bus journeys in future!

I did note as I alighted from the bus that the driver was keeping nice and cool in his shirt with sleeves rolled up as far as his bulging biceps would allow.

“Thank you!’ I said as I stepped off the bus, still silently tempted to add ‘and can you turn the heating off please, or will you risk getting the sack?’ but I resisted temptation.  As is usual with all our drivers who are unlucky enough to be allocated our route, he didn’t reply. Not even a grunt. I might have spied a bit of a smirk though.


Off on another spending spree!

Dragged out today on some lame brained pretext that I needed (or the world might end) a new pair of grey trousers from Marks and Spencer’s by my ‘money no object’ daughter, but at least it gives me something to write about. I haven’t been feeling too well following this last chemo session, it has taken me far longer to ‘come round’ and so blogging took a back seat in the list of things to occupy my time. Sorry about that. Anyway, onto the shopping trip. As many will be aware from previous posts, although we are all led to believe that the shopping trip is entirely for my benefit, its strange how it always ends with  K arriving home with more purchases than I.

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Where did yesterday go?

I don’t know what happened yesterday. I spent the whole day in some kind of stupor. Having done our Christmas shopping the night before ( at midnight no less!) in a  vain attempt at trying to avoid the crowds, I could have sworn we had purchased every available item in Yorkshire. Peering in both the fridge and freezer confirmed this, but ‘the boss’ was still insisting that we had ‘this and that’ still to buy. Some kind of sherry I think called something Hall and a packet of crisps she desperately must have to add to the vast amount we’ve already bought. Granted I was very tired. It was 01.05am before we had finished siding all of our midnight purchases and had finally managed to fall into bed.

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Supermarket Rules during Christmas.

In light of the upcoming chaos and mania that will no doubt ensue as we all attempt to do our shopping during the last few weeks before Christmas, I thought it was about time I did a Rules of Supermarket Shopping post.  Feel free to print it out and ask your local supermarket manager to consider enforcing it for the next two weeks or until some semblance of normality returns. Not only will this help to keep us all sane (and alive)  but also hopefully avoid any lost tempers and screaming tantrums.

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Trouble at Tesco’s.

We had a strange sort of shopping trip yesterday, strange because my ex husband had arranged to collect us and take us in the car, and even stranger when we got there and bumped head on into the ‘locked wheelchair’ conundrum, or ‘Where is the key?’ Only thing that I bitterly regretted about the whole saga as it unfurled was that I had unfortunately forgotten to take my camera with me. If I had it on my possession, you would all have been treat to some very funny photos of my ex Mum in Law (although here I have to add I still call her Mum as does half the town) sitting looking very concerned in a disabled child’s trolley! 

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Spendthrift Friday!

Yes everyone, before you all jump to the conclusion that I have finally flipped completely, I am fully aware that today is Sunday and this post is all about Friday, rendering it two days late, but we were away for the entire day yesterday and I couldn’t post about our successful search for a bag and a small trolley suitcase for my upcoming trip up to Scotland, so although it is now two days later here is my tale.

Friday turned out to be another repeat of Thursday weather wise, raining in the morning and then brightening up later. We waited for it to stop raining and the clouds to diminish before we made our way down the cat steps to catch the bus to Huddersfield. We began our search for a ‘crossover’ bag of a decent size in Peters, and then proceeded onto TKMaxx for a look around there. I did find one in TKMAxx that seemed suitable for my rather strange  demanding tastes, but it was as expensive as the previous one in Harveys that I refused to buy for that very reason the day before!

Small trolley suitcase So we continued our search by moving on to British Home Stores but they had nothing at all suitable. They did have a small trolley suitcase though and they were in the sale, so I bought the smallest size. We looked at the ‘bag lady’ in the closed market. Nothing. By this time I was beginning to sag at the seams.  Following a quick dinner in Burger King, we were planning to catch a bus to H and get the expensive one from Harveys (on K’s insistence, I was actually all for giving up and going back home.)

As we were walking up the street, we had to pass Peters again. Something made me decide to enter once more and have another look around. I saw a large black bag with crossover strap on a sale display so we moseyed over to take a closer look. Hmm, this is nice I thought, but why didn’t I notice this bag when we were in the shop previously?  Price? £41.30! Cripes!

My new Jane Shilton bag. Should I insure it?It’s a Jane Shilton bag” the assistant stated as she wrapped up my guilty purchase. That was the explanation given to me when I admitted that I had never spent that sort of money on a bag before. (In fact, my usual bags cost about a £10 at the most!) and of course I  am no handbag designer expert, so I didn’t have a clue who Jane Shilton was. Hmm, I thought to myself, paying that sort of money for a bag, knowing how careful I am would probably result in my not using it at all for fear of some ‘Jane Shilton exclusive’ bag collector was suddenly going to pounce and make off with it!

Armed with my new bag and my new trolley suitcase, we made our way up to Sainsbury’s for K to grab some food (as usual) and finally we made our way to the bus station for the bus home.

I shan’t be able to sleep tonight” I informed my youngest son who visited us that evening. “My conscience won’t let me after spending all that money on a bag!” 

We had an early night following my spending spree in preparation for our day out in Scarborough on Saturday for a World War 2 day at Scarborough Castle, and funnily enough I seem to have lost my conscience because as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep!  Blog about our day out later.