I'm on the bra wagon too...

The theme of the week must be the bra or by any other names, brassieres, flooper stoppers, slings, hammocks, instruments of torture, boobie drawers, Shoulder Boulder Holder or Double-barreled slingshots.

This subject has been discussed at House of Lime's and at Powell Power and a while back at Moannie's, I think I even posted a rant upon the subject here somewhere. I cannot be silent amid all this heaving, moaning and venting.

It must be the hotter weather that makes us realise we are uncomfortable or rather our breasts are. I was never well endowed. Being as skinny as a rake until my late 20's, then after giving up smoking I gained a few healthy looking pounds and so a few ounces fleshed out my pancakes or fried eggs. In my late 30's after five years of being either pregnant or breastfeeding, my now larger breasts hung like a pair of beagles' velvety ears. Empty. Sad. Stretched. Yikes. With the onset of middle age, they have actually filled out somewhat and as long as they are supported they can look pretty good clothed, even if I say so myself.

Part of the trouble is that bras never fit well, if they do not for long. he wire cuts into the arm pits leaving bruises, yes actual bruises. If I dare raise my arms above sea level then my boobs half hang out underneath, sorry a bad image that. l have long been able to hold not just one pencil under my boob, but the whole pencil case.

The torture is more in the finding a bra to fit and then buying several of the style. One that isn't all man made fabric. OH! maybe the problem is that they ARE man made. OMG!! DO you think men design them. And we are the 'butt' of this joke.

With machine washing and fluctuating weight. One needs to get replacements every six months. But we don't. We leave it longer and longer. Putting off the inevitable. Until our bras have no support left in them. The heat hits and we are well stuffed. Well you know what I mean. We have to go back to the store and red faced and squirming we ask for help. It's embarrassing and the assistants know it. I need a bra. I'm down to my last one.

There is an opportunity here, a gap in the humongous bra market for some entrepreneur, come you Dragons, to open a store or give house parties to sort out the bra mess. It is the stuffing of legend. We need a saviour. Service. Smiles. Bras for all.

Pockets of sunshine

It may have been pouring for five days now.

Both outside and inside.

Summer may have given up on us. But I have not.

I start my summer hols today

I have nothing planned

I refuse to sit and mope.

And to feel sorry for myself.

So I figured if I posted about my intentions here,

then I have to make an effort to do as many of them as I can

then come back and tell you all about my adventures.

I have some places I want to go...

Kent...

Shambellie House - Museum of Costume

London

Things I want to see...

the Royal Academy

Blackwell House- the Arts & Crafts House

The National Gallery

a show perhaps...

Tasks I want to get done.

like trim the hedges, tidy the flower beds

some wallpapering

Books to read...

Films to see...

Some indulgences I hope to accomplish

like this...

and this...

and this...

and something involving this ...

and this...

and this

and er ... me

l'm going to be a busy girl

Photostory Friday

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

abc wednesday

B is for ...

Baltic & Bridge

both in Gateshead which to me means Newcastle

but I will be corrected about that l'm sure!

The Baltic is a refurbished flour mill

which is now a Contemporary Art & Exhibiton space

on the riverside

I took these images when Larry and I visited a few years ago

The bridge is the Millienium Bridge over the Tyne

which is right next to the Baltic

the majestic side view

Millenium Bridge view

taken from the top of the Baltic

apparently the footbridge rises to join the top arch

when a tall ship comes through this may or may not be true,

given that Larry told me that the Iron bru drink

is from the girders of the Forth Road Bridge,

or perhaps that reflects sadly, badly on me...

(now follows some techie info for Suldog and BS5)

this bridge was built and then lowered into place in one piece

by a crane called the Asian Hercules II

pictured here for you two boys!

(this image is borrowed from travel.webshots.com)

For the home of ABC Wednesday, go to Mrs Nesbitt's Place.

Down but not out...

I am all at sea... next thursday I start my summer holidays. A run of 20 days off through to the last third of August. Then I have a grab of days working and days off, I reckon l'm only working 8 days in all in August.

As I mentioned in my last FFF post the kids are home off from school. You know it. I know it. The neighbours know it. Bus drivers, commuters, sweet shop assistants and newsagents, even the off licence chappie knows. A few weeks of calm?

WHAT!!? calm you say... I don't think so. WHY? you may well ask why have I taken so much time off? Well it's habit you see. I've always had a little part time work of some sort since I stopped real work (indeed life as I knew - and loved- it) after I had the first baby. My work was based in places where I could be flexible and always there to drop them off, pick them up, attend each and every play, concert and activity. I was a dinner lady for 4 years, with play ground duty at the their infants school, which I adored. Then a bookseller with a very understanding boss. Then I joined the Museum 6 years ago and that has worked out fine, indeed I have upped my hours accordingly. Whereby now, they are I guess latch key kids but they are 17 and soon to be 15 years old. So that's ok in my book. I've done my duty by them and been there for them.

This year is palpably different. As I mentioned on FFF. I am not needed. Surplus to requirements. Tall girl has a job and she has been given 3 extra shifts during the week. She has a driving test booked sometime in the last week of August and so she has 3 driving lessons a week booked to prepare. Soon to be 15 son, has band practice and sleepovers 'penciled in Mum'.

I am trying to get everyone synchronised to get down to Kent in next few weeks. Can I organise this one simple thing -please- can l heck. The dog cannot be left. No one can look after her. So Larry has to stay put. Tall girl and son cannot free themselves simultaneously.

Do I take just one of them?

So do I go down by myself?

Shall I claim back 7 of these 25 days holiday I have consumed?

I have some days out pencilled in,but no one wants to come too? It's no fun on my own, but they'd be miserable going to the RA. The Museum of Costume or to Blackwell House in the Lakes?

I have joined the local gym and will go everyday as it's only 150 yards away I have no excuses.

Disappointment, confusion and anticipation. Life is changing as I type. Sigh!

Schools out!

It's started...

I'm telling you this in hushed tones...

It's started....

that time when I have to replenish the food cupboards twice a week

It has begun...

the mountains of dirty clothes on the floor,

that is not school uniform

It has begun...

the dirty plates on top of the dishwasher,

instead of inside...

I leave the house before 9am

they get up before 1pm, maybe

When I get home...

all I want is a cup of Earl or Lady Grey,

they are staring into the fridge deciding on a lunchtime snack.

Tonight I've just got in from the cinema it's 11.30pm

Daughter has gone over to sleep at a girlfriends (I hope)

My son has left lights on in every room and seemingly every orifice in the house,

the street is LIT up with the light

It is just about tea time on his body clock,

I am making a cuppa and deciding whether to watch

a bit of tv or go up and read a while in bed.

This is week one of the school holidays.

I have taken most of August off work,

but they don't need me,

they don't want me,

in any needy way,

in fact they will be asleep most of the day!

They don't want to play.

They don't want to come into town with me,

not in daylight hours, they walk fourteen paces in front,

unless the debit card or cash is in my hand, paying.

What am I going to do with my holidays.

Larry has taken time off too.

What's a girl to do?

*****

Alice doesn't live here anymore...

Hair today, gone tomorrow - PSF

Photostory Friday

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Early this morning I read the POTD mentioned post Lady of Perpetual Chaos' and it got me thinking about the trials we spend at the hands of hairdressers, stylists and barbers. Everyone has a favourite hair story don't they?

I sympathise wholeheartedly and this happens to me a lot and l am off to the salon later today and I want a change but just know I shall later be moaning about it being too short, too red, too blond, too straight, too thinned out, too...! I have been on both sides of the fence, as I qualified in hairdressing in the late 1970's. I worked in three different salons after my 3 years training. But I haven't practiced professionally since the mid 1980's except on friends and family. The kids and Larry now go to the same salon as I and so I haven't cut anyone's hair (except Moannie's) for 15 years.

Seeing this from both sides, I just wanted to offer up my impressions. That it is about expectations folks and perceptions and as such, it ain't ever gonna meet YOURS or MINE! Everyone involved in this hair raising exchange is different, all have different impressions of what is and what isn't. Our expectations blow it for us.

By all means take an image from a magazine with you, but remember, her hair is not your hair. Your face shape may be similar, but isn't the same. The forehead maybe deeper, wider, your crown maybe higher or lower, hair thickness less or more. Your neck shorter, longer, non existent. You may have a third more hairs on your head, but then her hair may be thicker. And so as a general guide an image is helpful, but it can also heighten expectation unreasonably and to the detriment of the poor, yes poor cos the pay is shite unless you are that one in a million hairdresser, which is why I left , I wasn't.

We all approach the same image differently, and yes l'm taking one too today but of me last year!!

I have had long hair, short hair, a number one razored up the back and sides, spikey topped hair, I had the coup sauvage in the early 80's, I've had afro perms and rollered hair, lacquered hair and backcombed hair, streaked hair, highlighted hair, I've had flying colours hair and block tinted hair, crimped hair, dyed purple, red, black and henna'd hair, I've had shaggy hair, and yes even shagged hair - I know you know what that is.

Yes! Every picture tells a story.

In one I am 18, in another pregnant with baby#1 and one I have just had baby #2,

one I have just returned from Greece, in another is for my NUS student card -mature art student 1990...

all are taken between 1977 & 1994

I have my hair coloured to enhance my own very dark brown hair, because I have silver at the temples and apparently only a few through the body of my hair. I have this done every 3-4 months for the last few years. I haven't the patience to grow it long, even though my mind tells me I will look fab. I know l won't and Ange tells me emphatically NO! A few of us who are regulars at Ange's always have a laugh together because we know when we go in and she says,

'What are we having done today?' that she is just being polite! We all now reply with,

'What are we allowed to have today?'

A case in point is my last colour session 3 months ago. She asked the what? and I replied as described. Ange said 'Okay then what do you really, really want.' I said (foolishly) 'Well I have always hankered after a tarty blonde flash across the front,' as this is the game we play, so laughing I knew that she would scowl and defy me with her hairdressers logic. And I DO GET IT. I too have this logic, but I also want to be able to run free, along the crashing shoreline, hair flowing, all in slo mo and I look Fab. Miraculously this styling would do it, you and I know that but Ange knows better. That this may help me feel like I can get up out of bed tomorrow. Ange says,

'Okay, ok, will do it, but don't, DON'T tell me I told you so!'

She gave me dark blonde streaks. And three months on, I have not danced like no one can see me, nor sung like no one can hear me. I have had unmanageable hair. Dry, so dry and greasy roots. The blonde has gone blonder and completely washed out my sallow completion and dark eyes. The dark rings that l can do nothing to shift under them, appear darker too. I've even hacked off the back with my 30 year old Gotta scissors. Ange told Larry last week and she told my tall girl on Friday that she will refrain from the I told you so's...

*****

So late this afternoon, I walked in with a white piece of paper attached to the end of a stick which passed shaking through the door ahead of me. All was well. The cream & strawberry cake helped.

Am I happy with today's result?

I've returned to my dark brown with plummy shocks, and actually yes I am, very happy.

When I was hairdressing we used to say, though not to the clients obviously, 'The difference between a good haircut and bad haircut is ......two weeks.' think about it, it's usually true

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

abc Wednesday

Z is for Zakynthos (Zante)

in the late 1980's whilst Larry & I were still in the Dinky phase (double income no kids yet)

we would have several holdiays a year. I would visit my girlfriend in the States in late January

and we would take a weekend city break at Easter to Paris or Edinburgh

We started visiting Zaknythos in Greece in June 1986, an Ionian Island.

Before the high summer period when it was the time that mainland Greeks families took their holidays on the less commercialised islands. We would go for two weeks in June and another two weeks in late September just before the end of season when the wind the rains came suddenly.

We became very friendly with a group of people who ran establishments in Kalamaki

Then a hamlet with only 4 groups of rooms and one Hotel the Crystal. One disco on the hilltop, Its heart beating all night long above the crickets. One restaurant owned by Dionis and his lizardlike father. The gentle one eyed giant owned the one cafe and market with his brothers.There was also The Cave bar, owned by Nico, Petros and John 'yannis' a brit and an old friend of ours from England. It was to see him we first went there. John would spend the winter months in UK with us and Nico even visited once, he didn't stay long. We would return for several years, introducing friends to the area. Our last year there was September 1990 when we went with two friends.

a break from the long climb up, two on a moped,

the view with Laganas bay in the distance, Kalamaki to the left under the hills

The place back then was unspoilt. We were spoiled there. The sunsets, The beaches. The secret beaches around island where we spent time, swimming, eating over beach fires. Watching the turtles. The people were full of humour and generosity.

on the way to Agios Nicolais

see the sign/graffiti on the brickwork

Heady days and nights.

We hear now that the 3 mile road connecting Kalamaki and Laganas is now edged with apartments, pools and hotels. Laganas was always the lively fun spot, which we only dipped into for a pizza or to pass through on our way to Keri.

-Keri cliffs before sunset-

To watch the sunsets, which are now famously captured.

worth the wait

apologies for image quality these are scanned from holiday snaps

I can't say with hand on heart whether Larry or I took the images

1986

For the home of ABC Wednesday, go to Mrs Nesbitt's Place.