A few flakes.

Just a few flakes of snow. That’s all it seems to take to bring the whole country to its knees.  When will the United Kingdom ever be able to cope with a few flakes of snow and not grind to a standstill? Because winters were far harsher when I was a girl, with snow that fell for days, blew into drifts sometimes six feet deep, and necessitated everyone having to ‘dig’ their paths in order to even leave their premises to get to work or school, its so amazing to see how a  few inches of snow can devastate a country as it tends to do today.

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The difference is of course that way back then, we didn’t rely on cars, nor was the whole country planned around car owners.  Our place of work was usually a walk away from where you lived, there were no ‘out of town’ industrial sites miles away from any residential area in those days! The same applied to shopping, your local shop catered for all of your needs and was usually again just a short walk away, not incorporated in some ‘vast shopping centre’ miles out of town.

It’s our reliance on the car to get us anywhere these days that is the real problem, not the few inches of snow that has fallen.  I watched a car owner spend half an hour yesterday clearing his car of snow, he could have walked to town in the time it took to scrape the snow from his vehicle and been far healthier for it into the bargain! 

Moan over.

TG

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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.

TG

One of those days.

 

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I’ve just had one of those days today. The sort of day where you look back over it and wonder what on earth you have been doing all day. You see, yesterday we spent the entire day clothes shopping. It will no doubt come as a surprise my male readers (if I have any that is) but I am one of those rare females who hates shopping. We were shopping for some holiday clothes during one of the coldest May’s I am sure has ever existed and which didn’t really fill me with much enthusiasm to find myself rifling through shorts, pedal pushers, short sleeved t-shirts and the like. To add to the rubbishy ‘fed up’ mood I was in, I couldn’t seem to find anything I liked or that fitted me properly.

You see, I like trousers to come right up to the waist and give a snug fit around it. None of this ‘hanging from the hips’ business for this Gran! Every single garment tried on didn’t fit around my waist at all, despite fitting everywhere else. Daughter was having no luck either, as her search for size 18 short leg trousers with matching top drew a complete blank. (Finding clothes to fit Down’s Syndrome people is a nightmare, because of their shortish arms and legs)  We had searched in Sainsbury’s and Marks and Spencers, and despite the fact that we didn’t seem to be having much luck, we had still managed to spend quite a sizable amount. I was fed up. My back was aching, my feet were hurting, and I was just about to insist that we go home when we had a bit of an argument regarding that old stalwart for ladies of my particular age, BonMarche. I was more or less sure that it had shut up shop but Kerri insisted that it was still open.

Wagering a small bet of £5 to the winner, we marched up through town to check. She was right (as she so often is) and at last I found some white pedal pushers with an elasticated waist. Sure, BonMarche is no fashion boutique and is firmly aimed at the older woman, but their trousers are just how I like trousers to fit, right up to the waist and with no excess sticking out of the back. I bought a pair of summer weight jeans as well as the white pedal pushers. At last we could return home!

However, I didn’t bother trying them on in the shop (too fed up to bother) and when I did get around to it at home they were a size too big, and so today we have had to return to BonMarche for a smaller size. We decided to try Huddersfield first (despite the fact that I had bought them in Halifax) but the Huddersfield branch didn’t have the smaller size, so we had to catch a bus to Halifax. The only one due was the 501 Arriva bus which was already in the stand. We boarded and sat ourselves down, fully expecting a roughly half an hour journey or thereabouts. Hmm. What we didn’t know was that this route took in most of West Yorkshire including a circular tour around just about every farm, estate and field in Kirklees and Calderdale. We were even treated to the sight of a field full of black sheep! BLACK SHEEP! I thought they only existed in nursery rhymes! 

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To make matters worse, it didn’t seem to have any heating. I honestly hadn’t a clue whereabouts we were and can remember the thought crossing my mind as we chugged along, that if the bus happened to  brake down we would be completely lost. There were some familiar sights along the way of course, though they were few and far between,  Huddersfield hospital to give one example and we also passed Ainley Top at some point in the journey which we both recognised, we did go through Elland (eventually) but then went off on some detour around the countryside before finally joining the road to Halifax. I didn’t actually time the entire journey from Huddersfield but I am sure we were travelling for nearly two hours. By the time we reached our destination, the weather had taken a turn for the worse and we spent the short time we were in town dashing quickly up and down the streets just to keep ourselves warm.

I did get the pedal pushers changed so we did achieve our goal. Eventually!

TG

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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Against All Odds.

Every year without fail I make a new year’s resolution to diet. I it did again this year as I did last year. How successful was I? Well I am now nearly a stone heavier at the beginning of this year compared to last.  I try really hard honest!  But I am up against it. Eating influences come wafting my way every minute of the day. I should be stronger in will. Firmer in resolution. Go shopping alone. Wear headphones or earplugs. Not be swayed by those pleading eyes, and persuasive tone of voice.  Will I manage it this year?  What do you think? Sigh………

Can we have? shrek2

TG

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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