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Showing posts from November, 2009

A Sneak Preview

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I finally did it. I bought a dress to wear to my son's wedding. I've been agonising over this for months. Regardless of where I looked I couldn't find anything even half suitable. It was depressing. And then on Friday I decided that Saturday would be the day. I would find something to wear.


And I did.

But not before having to deal with what in retrospect I can only call rudeness. I think at the time I was too shocked to know how to respond. It happened in the very first store where I started trying on clothes. The salesperson serving me kept bringing me clothes that were at least one size too big. At first I thought, "She must know the clothes. Perhaps they're tight-fitting and I need the next size up." But the garments turned out to be on the generous side rather than the slim. Even after repeatedly asking for smaller sizes (after I'd tried the larger sizes) she still kept bringing me clothes that were too big. Eventually she realised that I did indeed …

I Will Not Get Upset

Nor will I take it personally. Perhaps it's not even me, but blogger. After all, I know blogger isn't updating for some blogs that I follow and it's even refused to update my writing blog on my sidebar, so perhaps we can blame blogger for the fact that I can't access some blogs I used to regularly follow and that my tally of followers constantly goes up and down and the tally on my sidebar never agrees with the tally on my dashboard.

If I used to be a regular visitor/commenter on your site and I've not been there for a while, it's not because I'm neglecting you but because I can't get in. I know of at least one blogger who was having problems with someone stealing her user name and copying her blog, but I hadn't heard of others with a similar problem. So if you'd like me to still be your friend, please let me in!

Vanity Thy Name Is ???

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I went to bed last night with one eye a little puffy and itchy; I woke this morning with two puffy itchy eyes. I didn't have bags under my eyes I had terraces. Think the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and you can't go wrong.

If my husband was thinking that he'd just spent the night with an old hag he was too polite to say so.

A quick trip into the pharmacy on my way to work and I was armed with a box of antihistamine eye drops. The last time I took an antihistamine tablet I ended up ill and slept for hours (and they were the non-drowsy variety). I didn't want to risk that again but I was willing - and desperate - to try the eye drops.

By the time I got to work my cheeks were all red and blotchy and I really looked awful. Just the other day I'd been bemoaning the fact that I'm getting older and that it shows and in an effort to cheer myself up I had reminded myself that I'm never going to look as good again as I do right now.

Well I was right. I just didn't exp…

And So It Goes

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My DIL#1 informed me on Friday that it was only five weeks to Christmas. That is something I do not want to hear!

I'll be honest and admit that I'm not a huge Christmas fan. I love having the family around and the big family dinner and seeing those I love happy but I hate the shopping, the planning, the cleaning (which probably won't get done this year thanks to other commitments), wrapping presents, and the fact that I have five sons who are more than capable of decorating the tree but always give up halfway.

Making Christmas pudding together as a family is traditional in our home (shouldn't be too hard to organise this year since everyone is currently sleeping under the one roof) and it seems that DH and I have now started a new tradition of taking The Most Adorable Granddaughter in the World#1 to the local Christmas Parade.

We went last Saturday.

After watching the procession for a while, The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1 asked, "Where's the Christmas Parade?…

Another One

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This is one of those posts. Hair post. Age post. A thinking-it-through post. And an I'm-making-myself-vulnerable-and-likely-to-scare-off-readers post.

I've decided to throw off society's expectations and, gasp, stop colouring my grey. It's not been a quick decision. I've written about this before and I'm likely to write about it again.

My own misconceptions - and those of society - keep tripping me up. So often when a "younger" woman allows her grey to show it is thought that she doesn't care, is lazy, or unable to afford to make herself look "acceptable". None of the above applies to me.

It's a conscious decision and a scary one. I wrestle with it every day. There's a box of henna still sitting in my linen cupboard and several times a week I'm tempted to use it.

I miss the shine that henna gives my hair. And I miss the illusion of youth. For along with society's expectations that women won't grow old, there is also my …

I Dreamt Last Night

that my books had arrived and that I was getting myself into an awful mess trying to send out the orders (not that there have been any orders yet - I haven't even made my website - still under construction - public knowledge even though it's available for anyone willing to search).

However, soon this may be more than just a dream. It may be reality.

I've had an email today from my publisher. The books are back from the printers and they're shipping them to me today. For anyone who has ordered these books and been waiting for months this is good news.

It's good news anyway. At least for me.

One Day He'll Like It

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This afternoon, Son#2 and I attended a concert of high achieving music students in our area (neither of us were included in the group nor are ever likely to be). When I paid for our tickets, the lady who took my money asked, "One adult and one student?" I had to correct her and say, "Two adults."

A short time later my music teacher came and sat next to us and the discussion got onto secondary schools and she asked Son#2 if he was at a particular school. "Ah, it's been a while since I was there," was the gist of his answer.

To cover her gaffe she mumbled something about how when he's 45 and mistaken for 30 he won't mind. Not that Son#2 seemed to mind today. But apparently a similar thing has happened to him at work several times. A number of patients had commented on how wonderful it was that the place where he works was employing students over the holidays. At first those that worked there were confused. And then the penny dropped. The patients…

The Waiting Game

I've held off writing a new post, hoping that I would have some news soon. Several weeks ago I heard from the Publisher that my book had gone to the printers. Naturally I was excited and began to think that it wouldn't be too long before I could make an announcement.

That seems like such a long time ago now.

Two weeks ago I heard that within a week or so the book would be ready for delivery.

Excitement mounted.

We've now moved from "within a week" to "or so" and still no news.

I feel like giving up hope.

I know there's a reason for all these delays and that it will all happen in God's timing but I'm getting so impatient.

Not a good character trait for a writer.

Anybody May Know

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In Jane Austen's Emma, when Emma says to Mr Knightley that she knows how highly he thinks of Jane Fairfax, he replies, "Yes, anybody may know how highly I think of her."

I think that any regular readers of my blog would know how highly I think of my family and how proud I am of them. This past week DH and I have had reason to be especially proud of Son#4 and Son#5.

It began with Son#5's School Prize Giving on Wednesday afternoon. This year he had wanted to take a "less academic" subject that he was interested in. We agreed but on the condition that he worked hard at the "more" academic subjects. I'm thrilled to say that he exceeded our expectations, taking out several diligence and merit certificates in almost all his classes. It would appear that with only two years left at school he has finally learnt how to work hard! I hope that's encouraging for anyone else who also has a "late bloomer" (or one who'd rather play than work)…

The Dark Hours

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Now it was the third hour, and they crucified Him.

No how. No gory details. Just the plain facts. They crucified Him. The Saviour of the World. The King of Glory. The Son of God. They crucified Him.

And at the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” which is translated, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”

Alone in His time of need. His disciples had fled. The women who loved Him were there but at a distance. The soldiers and religious leaders had mocked Him and were probably now ignoring Him, waiting for Him to die so that they could go home.

Alone. And now it appeared that the Father had also deserted Him.

And Jesus cried out with a loud voice, and breathed His last. So when the centurion, who stood opposite Him, saw that He cried out like this and breathed His last, he said, “Truly this Man was the Son of God!”

And so He is.

(From Mark 15, verses 25, 34, 37, 39, NKJV)

I Think I'll Call This

... I have no idea.

My brain's not functioning so well today even though I did manage to get through almost 7 hours at work.

My head aches.

My glands are sore and throbbing.

I keep getting dizzy.

I think I'll go rest after this.