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Showing posts from January, 2016

Cold feet and girlie socks

Look at your feet.

Fill in the blanks - my feet are ..., they feel ..., they look ...

... knobbly, svelt, plumptious, furry, hairy, bald, smooth, flaking, dry, sweaty, clean, dirty, stinking, warm, like ice-blocks, socked, naked, pink, white, blue, black (see a doctor), numb, tickle-y, pins and needles-y, beautiful, sexy, hobbit-y, cloven ... etc

Mine are cold.

A day of shopping, providing a taxi service to Littlest, gardening and sitting at my desk has (and probably, predominantly, the latter occupation is to blame) resulted in freezing toes, white skin and a tingle where the bunion is just beginning to say it's chilly down here.

It's not helped by the nakedness, due to tardiness in the dressing activity after post-gardening ablutions earlier - um, just pausing to assess that image ... no I'm not shivering in the altogether at my desk - that would be weird in January. Weird any month of the year. No, the tardiness was due to utter disdain for the choice of socks in the so…

Turkish delights and birthday cake

Apart from this ' :-) ' how do you write a grin?

Smiles come in all shapes, sizes and motivations. There's the barely there, I mustn't smile, demur, hinted-at smile. The embarrassed I-have-no-idea-why-I'm-smiling-but-I-am-and-I-can't-stop smile. The forced I-should-be-smiling-because-everyone-else-finds-this-funny-even-if-I-don't smile. The I love you smile between adults which is very different from the I-would-starve/cut-off-my-arm/go-without-chocolate-for-the-rest-o-my-life-if-only-I-could-see-your-smile-every-day-and-keep-you-safe-for-ever smile between a mother and her child. Then there's the I'm happy, just simply, overwhelmingly happy smile sometimes accompanied by a humm-ful tune. Proper smiles involve your eyes. Sad, forced and embarrassed smiles do not.

So what about grins. Are they perhaps just very big smiles?

Is a grin a smile on a grand scale? The Sydney Opera House of smiles. A smile as deep in feeling as the Grand Canyon and as wide …

Hell-Slinki and other festively muddled words

Christmas evening - so often an anticlimax - is a time for games in our house. The sort played on boards with teams and counters and winners. This year it was the turn of Articulate; a great game when lubricated by two glasses of bubbles, a couple (or three) of wine, one of pudding wine and enough food to ensure your tummy remains full at least until snacking-time just before bed. And a game at its best when played with the ages that extend across a family brought together to share Christmas.
Everyone has a different approach to the game - from the competitive I'm-almost-nearly-sober-and-if-I-pinch-myself-I'm-definitely-awake-enough-to-win-this, to the pinching-me-with-a-lobster-claw-wouldn't-keep-me-awake; via the slightly bemused befuddled and mildly belligerent no-I-don't-need-any-help-no-no-none-at-all-I-know-doing-what-I-am, to the I've-been-cooking-all-day-and-my-brain-got-steamed-with-the-sprouts-and-I-can-barely-string-two-words-together-so-my-performance-i…