Saturday, 29 June 2013


I bought a new handbag a couple of weeks ago and was faced with the task of transferring everything from on bag to another. 

Gone are the days when I could fit everything into the tiny little Radley bag I carried around proudly for a few years.  These days I need a bag to rival that of Mary Poppins; something that can accommodate a notebook, Kindle, mobile phone, purse, keys umbrella, hairbrush, body spray, painkillers (which invariably end up at the bottom of the bag, prompting a mad search each time I have a headache) and a number of lipsticks.  Heaven only knows how young girls go on these days with these tiny bags!

The worst part about changing bags is that, amongst all the useful items listed above, there is always hundreds of old supermarket receipts, sweet wrappers, tissues and empty cans of body spray.

How did I manage to fit all this rubbish into my tiny little bag?  How do I now carry my huge bag around without doing myself an injury?

This also got me thinking.  When I was 18 (yes, I can just about remember being 18), I went for a night out with a dolly bag containing my money for the night and a tiny lipstick.  Now, just for a night at the local I need a bag big enough to fit money, mobile phone, keys and the other half’s keys, mobile phone, cigarettes and lighter.

Maybe we should be more like men.  No bags; just shove things in out pockets until they’re fit to burst.  Nah, can’t see it catching on.

Saturday, 1 June 2013


So, with less only a few days until my summer holiday I have had a wonderful weekend of being well an truly pampered.

I spent blissful two hours yesterday having my nails and feet "done". To be fair I have my manicure every three weeks but as a treat before our hols, the other half said he would pay for me to have a pedicure as well. 

I've never had a pedicure before and I was genuinely looking forward to it.  I haven't got the best feet in the world but they’re far from the worst.  So for the past few weeks I've been giving them a good going over the with pumice stone, moisturised at night and, most importantly, stopped going to the bin barefoot (it's literally two steps away from my front door!).  So after my manicure (a luxury in itself) I spent 45 minutes in what I imagine heaven to be. 

It started with 10 minutes with my size sixes in one of those foot spa thingies.  You know, the one's you fill with water then plug into the electric (a wonderful mixture) and it vibrates, massaging your feet.  I was treated to a cup of tea and a collection of magazines to accompany it.  After this I was so relaxed.  Then, when I thought I couldn't be any more relaxed, I was asked to lie on the bed, before I was treated to a leg and foot massage.  I had warned the beautician that I am ticklish on my feet so there was no need to be gentle.  Her response to this? "Well don't jump; I have a sharp blade in my hand".  I was slightly alarmed at this, but this was to remove hard/dead skin from my feet.  My feet now feel softer and smoother than they have in years.

The finishing touch was having my toenails painted.  Not being blessed with a steady hand I’ve never painted my toenails without getting it all over my toes as well, so to have them done properly, I was overjoyed.  I lost count of the number of times I said to the other half, “look at my feet!”.  He commented more than once that they smell a lot nicer than usual too.  I felt so loved! 

This morning the hairdresser appeared at my door.  Just a trim and a tidy-up before they holiday, but I always enjoy half an hour of having my hair played with.  If I could pay someone just to come round and do that, I would do. 

So, I’m all preened and pampered and ready for a fortnight of sun, sea, sand and………..sangria