Honesty and Facial Hair

It is this time of year that I usually do the big change over. Winter clothes to summer clothes. Not a man thing but think many of you know what I mean. It is always quite exciting bringing out old friends. Remembering when you wore certain items, memories both good and bad. And those internal conversations – well in my case not so internal

“You are still here – bloody hell think I got you when I first left home and that was – well let’s not go there

“Ahh my beloved pink dress –  I love you – you are one of my all-time favourites.”

“I am never going to be a size 10 why on earth am I  keeping you?  Somewhere I have my wedding suit from 36 years ago which I bought because  — being  the parsimonious kind of person I am  —  I thought,  well I can always wear it again. Meanwhile I couldn’t fit one of my thighs into it nowadays.

This year the conversations are a bit different as there is absolutely no need to bring out most of the lovely dresses as I have nowhere to go. Would feel a bit stupid parading around the house in them. So, this summer my wardrobe is breathing a huge sigh of relief as I am being selective over what makes the final cut.  It’s a bit sad though. And I know there was a lot of disappointment in the summer clothes chest as many of them were hoping to see a bit of daylight and sunshine. The mutterings were almost audible as I closed the chest lid.

No blog yesterday too busy gardening. And today I am feeling its effect. My gardener arrived with a wonderful array of flowers – all as a pressi. I think he feels sorry for me ever since Tod died, he has arrived with little gifts. Well I am not complaining except, of course, I had to plant them all. I spent the entire day digging and planting and by 7 in the evening I couldn’t move. I was covered in mud, my back had gone into spasm, and my knees had locked. I crawled upstairs, took a diazepam and went to bed. But the garden is looking wonderful.

I am a very proud home gardener.  I have talked to all the new plants, introduced them to their neighbours, watered them and promised to come back with some food this evening.   Indeed, as I walk down our road all the gardens are looking quite wonderful. This has to be the prettiest time for nature. And at this very moment, under the circumstances, there isn’t another place that I would rather be.

front garden
My front garden

Toby is now busy building a gazebo to be housed in our new space at the bottom of the garden. Next, we need to order the stones which I fear are going to be very expensive. It is a project I could have done without, but I know when it is finished, I will love it. And moreover, it has given Toby a project and impressed us all with his DIY abilities. There seems to be nothing that this boy can’t turn his hand to. His father would be very proud.

Meanwhile yesterday I got a surprise social distance visit from Zak and Jake.  We sat at opposite sides of the patio and shared cake, fruit and a drop of whisky.  Always time for a wee dram. It was the first time I have seen Zak in nearly 3 months.  His anarchic hair was a sight to behold and looked quite wonderful. The next time we are all together will be June 17 which is Toby’s birthday and the anniversary of Tod’s death but thankfully it’s not Father’s Day this year as when Tod died as well as being youngest son’s birthday it was also Father’s Day.  Not a day any of us will forget.

Yesterday I read a news item – not about the COVID19  but about a woman who was out with her family somewhere in America and she found £820,000 in a bag in the middle of the road. Which she then handed into the police saying, “it was not mine to keep.” And it got me thinking what would I do? Would I too be that honest person? It’s a tough one. Clearly it didn’t belong to an individual as who would be carrying that amount of money around. It didn’t belong to a big company because it would be in a bank – so probably it was stolen. From where? a bank? How do we feel about banks? Is it ok to steal from a bank if you come by it sort of honestly…?  And what will the police do with the money? If it isn’t claimed do they give it back to this woman? If not what? Imagine what one could do with this money. How many homeless could be housed?  Fed? or on a more selfish note – I could buy flats for my sons…. only kidding it would be the homeless honestly. I would like to think I too would hand it in – maybe not so much out of honesty but guilt. But clearly, I have not, as yet been tested.

At this very moment it doesn’t matter how much money I have I still can’t get my hair cut or have a beautician eradicate those unwanted hairs that seem to be sprouting up in the most ungainly manner. Mindful of a woman that always sat on our bridge table and who had a proper moustache and long hairs growing out of her chin, I always said to my girlfriends if you ever see me with hairs on my face for god’s sake tell me. I mean why didn’t someone tell this woman. I think she had a partner too. As my Aunt Billee would say “other people have to look at you.” No wonder I couldn’t focus on my bridge playing I was too busy focusing on the hairs.

cards old ladies

While I am on the subject there was another woman at our Bridge club who had an enormous black head right in the middle of her forehead.  I am baring my soul here, but I have a thing about black heads. I enjoy squeezing them. I know great big yuck – but we all have something.  It took all my restraint not to put my fingers up to her face and go for it. I nearly asked her once if she would mind but thought better of it.

Well this morning I looked in the mirror and I saw a hair growing out of my cheek and some upper lip stuff that is less than prepossessing. The legs too could do with a bit of an upkeep, other things, well that’s my secret because no one is every going to see them so they will be left to their natural course. Will be ordering Wax online.

In the meantime, I just might choose something from the summer collection and go and sit in the garden – at least the flowers will appreciate me.

“Let’s be careful out there”

Giving Birth and Curb Your Enthusiasm

As you might imagine there has been quite a lot of screen viewing over the last few months.  And I have some odd viewing habits. For example, I love to watch all the birthing programmes. The other day Toby came into my bedroom to find out why there was a woman screaming loudly – just as he came in the baby popped out covered in blood and slim – “FFS …mum what are you watching,” and he left the room disgusted.  But I am there with the mums, breathing through their labour, “Come on you can do it,” encourages the partner and me, and when the baby pops out, we are all overjoyed and relieved.  Tears flowing – all of us.

I loved being pregnant, even enjoyed giving birth in a weird masochistic kind of a way.  Although if Tod was here, he would tell a different story. “Don’t you ever touch me again,” apparently, I shouted as Zak was reluctantly pulled out. Of course, I deny this implacably.  If everything goes well there is no experience equal to the feeling you have just after you have given birth. It is as if you are the only one in the world that has does this and as you lay there exhausted with your baby next to you – suddenly nothing else in the world matters but you and this baby.   No wonder Tod felt left out!

photo of an infant sleeping
Photo by Jake Ryan on Pexels.com

I do miss having the children  around me –  I am sure I complained when they were little, but  I would do it all again – willingly. I especially loved being in bed with all three boys on a weekend morning. Of course I have selective memory here. And when older relatives would say “enjoy it  while you can as it goes so quickly,” and always at a particularly difficult moment when the children were being little sods, I would mutter ‘yeah right.’ But how true it is. I feel like I blinked, and it was over.  Hindsight hey – I find myself uttering those very same words of un-wisdom to parents and I can almost see what is going through their minds.

My other big joy is Place in The Sun the tv programme about buying property overseas. Even more attractive now I am locked in.  I have always fantasized about owning a place in Italy Spain or France. And still do.  Tod used to call these programmes Roma’s porn. I also devour other programmes such as Escape to the Country, Fantasy Homes and Grand Designs.

So,  I have a question and  it is one of those ‘why or why’ questions; why oh why does everyone always walk around the living room and say, “I can just imagine our Christmas Tree here” or  “imagine the Christmas lunches we can have around this table” Do they not realise that Christmas only comes for 1 day each year – are they really going to buy an expensive house based on where the Christmas Tree will go?   I wonder if Jews think “I can just imagine that the menorah would sit beautifully here ” – or ” this would be great for Rosh Hashona” – or Muslims would imagine their guests sitting eating in a particular place after Ramadan or ….  No it is always the christmas tree.


Staying with tv programmes for a time my friends have kept recommending  Curb Your Enthusiasm. “You will love it Roma,” they said.   Now, after watching just the first programme of series 1 and there are 6 series I am wondering what it is about me that they think I will love about Curb Your Enthusiasm.    I am already  feeling slightly uncomfortable just from the first programme. Larry David certainly knows how to dish out emotional punishment.  It’s a little too close to  reality  – the stuff we think but don’t share. The stuff we do but try to cover up.  It’s that awful, prickly discomfort we feel when a social encounter is spiralling out of control. I think it is best watching this on my own.  I just might need therapy by the end of series 6 if I make it that far.

Its Blog 51 and I am beginning to wonder why I am writing this. Certainly, I never thought I would make it this far. But should I carry on? And who am I doing it for? If it’s for me should it then be private and then I could really reveal my inner most feelings and it would be a cathartic blog.  If it is for others, then maybe I should try and make it a bit more interesting. Clearly as I only have 31 followers it isn’t really yet for the wider public.  But how does one reach the wider public? And do I want them anyway – all very riveting info I know.

But  for now I have earmarked the next hour to admin.  Have been procrastinating insurance claims for lost flights, questions from my IFA, moving around bits of money and preparing for the Will meeting which I had to cancel last week because I  hadn’t worked out some of the finer points such as executors etc and what  to do should I get sick.  I find all this so distressing. It took Tod and I 15 years to write a Will as every time we got to the point of who would look after the children should  something happen to us we would get so upset that the whole process would break down and get delayed – again. Only to be completed once the children were old enough to look after themselves.

We were both incredibly emotionally soppy. We would switch off the news if it got too distressing, walk out of the cinema if it became too emotionally upsetting and refuse to watch films with sad endings.  Tod stopped watching R4’s  The Arches after Nigel fell off the roof and died. “Why would they do that to us,” he said.  He certainly wouldn’t have been able to watch Curb Your Enthusiasm.

larry david

A therapist would have a field day with us – actually they did!

Enjoy your Saturday and “Let’s be Safe Out there”

Memory Master Class

Day 50 of my blog! Wow that’s quite momentous say it myself I shouldn’t – stupid expression why shouldn’t I blow my own trumpet. I never thought I would be able to keep it up. Well done me.

It was one of those too good to be true offers. “Learn how to boost your memory in a free 1-hour masterclass with world renowned memory expert.” What have I got to lose I thought except an hour of my precious time which isn’t very precious at the moment? After all this guy has worked with the best of them. So, I booked in yesterday at midday. Full of anticipation and hoping that not only would it teach me how to remember what I had for breakfast or how to remember the beginning of my sentences but also names, books and important facts. It’s not just my memory which needs help but also learning how to retain information. I had thought of taking some of Tod’s Ritalin to see if it helped but have not, as yet, gone down that route.

At midday yesterday pen poised, paper ready, so I could write stuff down and not rely on the memory, well not just yet I doubt it would work that fast I logged in. Ok so it’s American, well that’s ok I am kind of half American. But my heart did sink a little when I heard the presenter start his speak. Didn’t take me long to realise this was going to be an hour-long hard sell interspersed with a few tit bits to keep us interested. But I stayed with it – what’s an hour if I learn something. I could always play scrabble on my phone during the selling bit. The Masterclass it turns out was more of Master speak. I got a lot of Scrabble played but not much memory learning. It did however remind me of some of things that I already knew especially about how to remember names. And if I ever get out of my house and need to mingle again, I will put it into practice. It is a system that the Americans are very good at. Goes something like this.

“Hi Mike Linhook. So nice to meet you Mike. That’s an interesting name where does Linhook come from. Really, that’s fascinating Mike I will remember that if I ever meet another Mike Linhook. Get my drift and always end with “Well it was lovely to meet with you Mike Linhook.”

Masterclass over, yes, a little disappointed but not massively. Today was cupboard day. Finally, I am going to sort out some of my cupboards. Me first demanded the kitchen. It did have a point. It is tedious to open a door only to find the contents of the entire cupboard comes tumbling out because stuff is jammed in. So, what is it about Tupperware lids? They are like socks that come in pairs but always come out of the washing machine solo. Tupperware arrives intact but doesn’t take long before it loses its mate. I had 34 lids and no bottoms. I also had 6 cake tins but no removeable bottoms. I suspect cakes had been made, the bottoms left on the cake and then they got thrown away. And 60 jam jars. Yes really 60. I love to make Jam. But 60 methinks perhaps a bit OTT. Soon it will be strawberry jam time, then blackberry, quince, rosehip, grape and finally come January its Marmalade. But I reluctantly jettisoned a box of 12.

I have had no takers for the Capodimonte – quelle surprise – or any of the other items I have listed on Facebook marketplace, Etse and eBay. What’s the matter with these people can’t they appreciate a bargain? But I have found two items which I think just
might be worth a few pennies.

Pewter Mug 1935 Silver Jubilee King George V and Queen Mary. Casket Coronation of King George V and Queen Mary 1911. Here’s hoping.

Quick update on the dog for those following me. Back from the vet £1000 poorer! Issue with back leg and hip (well I knew this) on medication and needs second opinion on the swelling in her throat. Meanwhile the cat is continuing her killing spree. If you look carefully you will see the poor little mouse pretending to be dead. Pleased to report I rescued the mouse and put her or him in a safe place




Toby has nearly finished the digging at the bottom of the garden. It is so flat we could put a shed down there – Oh yes just remembered we already knocked one down.


“Let’s be careful out there”

The Bird’s Nest

Desperately upset this morning as yesterday sitting on my patio I viewed a black bird with a twig in her mouth. I watched, alarmed to see her perching on the patio fence with a twig in her mouth. She was building a nest in-between the rafters of the fence just above the patio. How lovely you might think. Unless, of course, you have a killer cat. Who already in the past week has deposited 2 birds and 3 mice on our living room carpet? She has even bought in a very large dead rat which she dragged upstairs and left besides my bed. 

I googled “how to remove a bird’s nest” and the answer was don’t. But what if it is in a danger cat zone, I asked Siri. She replied, “I don’t understand your question.” Sadly I destroyed the nest to save  some of the next generation of black birds. 

This morning sitting on the same patio at the same time I see the same bird building a duplicate nest in exactly the same place between the rafters that I destroyed yesterday’s nest. This little bird is very determined.  Clearly this was a choice spot. And would have also been a choice spot for my cat. So this nest had to go too.  I went and kicked the cat.  

While I am on the topic of animals it’s the day of reckoning for Izzi the dog today. At midday she will have 2 x-rays to determine why she is choking, and why her back leg isn’t working well. She is nearly 13 and dearly loved by us all. A Collie Cross with Belgium Shepherd she is a wonderful dog that just consumes love. A people’s dog rather than a dog’s dog. I am reminded of Rudyard Kipling’s poem ‘The Power of the ‘Dog.  Below a short extract

Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.



Need to be be uplifted so thought I would attempt Jake’s recipe for chocolate truffles. He made some for us last week and they were so incredibly delicious that we fought over the last one. I use the word attempt as I started with a defeatist attitude which I know wasn’t helpful. I diligently weighed everything out before hand – which is a first for me as I usually start a recipe and invariably find out halfway through that I am missing some key ingredients. This time however I am prepared. I think you probably know where this is going. Yes. Disaster. The sugar melted well much to my surprise and  it didn’t burn but the issue came when I poured in the cream

It kind of cystalised. So I put it back on the heat hoping the heat my save the day but to no avail and this is what I ended up with

Doesn’t look like truffles to me!!!! Didn’t bother to put in the chocolate so that at least we could eat it in replacement for the truffles. I wonder had I been more positive in the first place maybe I would have had a better outcome. Bit disappointing.

Sorry -Toby no desert. It’s his turn to do dinner. We take it in turns. I think tonight is Viennas, sweet potatoes and courgettes. Running low on veg only have courgettes left. I realise that I am spending a lot more on food at the moment but then not eating out so little luxuries are ok. Except that there is always that little  nagging voice inside of me – the parsimonious part of me – that gets a bit anxious about money. It’s not that I can’t afford it. But the hiding-under-the table with mum because we couldn’t afford to pay the milk man  is hard to forget. 

Still feel bad about the blackbird. Apparently, it is the female bird who makes the nest and moulds it around her body. What must she have felt about me and indeed why did she come back a second time to rebuild the nest when it had been completely destroyed? Dread to think what I might find tomorrow.

Think I need to kick the cat again.


Not fussy about where she sits – butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth 


“Let’s be careful out there”


Talking to oneself

I am back. I have got up dusted myself down and given myself a good talking to about emotional indulgence. Mindful of the post Barbara sent me from a German Psychiatrist I am not talking  too much. Although the psychiatrist  said that it is normal to talk to the walls, flowers and carpets in lockdown and one only needs to worry if they talk back.  Phew so far  our conversations have been very one sided.  Although I think I  heard a few murmurs the other day.  That said I do come from a long line of people who talk to themselves.

So, after my thoroughly-good-talking-to I decided that today is the first day of the rest of my self-isolation and I need, no must, be a lot more proactive. It is too easy to get sucked into laziness and I was doing so well at the beginning with my lists; exercise, meditation, spring cleaning, bridge & scrabble. I say I was doing so well – meaning I had written the list but the meditation only lasted 4 days, the spring cleaning is still an ongoing exercise with very little achieved and  the exercise classes have been sporadic.  The Bridge and The Scrabble however are ongoing but also with little success. You would think that with all this time I would be able to perfect my playing but clearly others too have all this time and they are perfecting a lot better than I am.

So, the conversation I had with myself this morning went like this:

“Roma Felstein there is a whole world out there and I know you can’t actually access it personally but with modern technology you could be doing a lot better. So, start exercising that very lazy brain before it stops working altogether.  And begin by getting out of bed.”

Apparently not only is talking to yourself normal it is actually very good for us. So says a Dr. Nicolosi on the American network NBC.

“If we speak out loud, it forces us to slow down our thoughts and process them differently because we engage the language centres of our brain. By talking to ourselves we become more deliberate, and this creates a slower process to think, feel and act, instead of being bombarded by our thoughts.”

So, I am feeling pretty good about myself right now.

“What we say to ourselves, when we say [it], and how, has a tremendous impact on our self-esteem,”   Well Dr. Nicolosi anything that boosts my self-esteem is good news to me.  But he also  advises that it is the content of the conversations that is most telling.  Hmm now not feeling  quite so good about myself.  Most telling about what? The content of my conversations are a little bizarre.

If there are any experts reading this blog which I doubt as I am sure they have better ways of using up their time,  I would be very interested in their thoughts on the following.

Rewind to around age 9. I had this complex imaginary world with a bunch of different characters.  I would act out scenarios talking aloud BUT – and this is the really weird bit – I could only talk out loud if I was throwing a ball in the air at the same time.  Yes, I know how bonkers. But I guess by now you are not surprised.  And at night  I could  only get to sleep  by throwing the ball and talking to myself. My mother, worried that this behaviour was somewhat abnormal – can’t think why!  – would confiscate the ball. Which I would replace with a rolled-up pair of socks and continue – quietly.

Methinks I just might have disclosed a little too much here.

Moving swiftly on my son Toby – ever vigilant and protective about his mother – is coming down strong on our friends who are not so careful.  I have tried to explain that everyone has their own level and if they are not vulnerable then they are going to be going out – but I think it is falling on deaf ears.  Toby does nothing by halves.   And bless him since Tod died, he has taken over the role of looking after mum very seriously. Which he does very well and I am  eternally grateful.   And no way is anybody stepping over our thresh hold who has not been careful.

All packages, letters, groceries etc are sprayed with disinfectant and left in the downstairs decontamination room for 2 days.  Good job I have a large house! We have masks, disposable and reusable.  Disposable gloves, anti-bacterial wipes and anti-bacterial soap.  And lots of hand cream! We are a house that is well protected, and wo betide any germs that try to enter. They will have to deal with my secret weapon – Toby.  Everyone needs a Toby in a pandemic.

That said we are making a foray out of the house for a click and collect from Waitrose.   Given up on trying to get a delivery slot so this is the next best thing. I have already spoken to the local store who,  say if they are not busy, they will bring our shopping into the car park.

So, guys even if you are going out please be vigilant – this  pandemic isn’t over just because you’re bored


“Let’s be careful out there”


“It is not given to human beings – happily for them, for otherwise life would be intolerable – to forsee or to predict to any large extent the unfolding course of events.”

Winston Churchill, Euology for Neville Chamberlain November 12 1940

Never has a truer word been said. Warning – today’s blog might not be uplifting

Anybody else here feeling a bit uneasy? Something amiss in the pit of my stomach.  Not a feeling that I am comfortable with. But I know what it’s about.  For the past 2 months we have all been in lockdown.   An experience I can share with most of the country and certainly my friends.  This shared experience bought about a sense of community of belonging and I felt secure, relaxed and in control. The Brits are very good at banding together when there is an external threat and creating a culture of strong social reliance on each other. Certainly, I have seen this on my street.

So, for the past 2 months I have been in control of my situation and enjoyed immensely the sense of community spirit.   But now with lockdown easing slightly everything is shifting.  And it is this shift which is making me feel uneasy.  I cannot ease up as I have an underlying condition.  But for many people including most of my friends they will be able to get out more, go back to work and socialise.  And I am already starting to feel a bit ‘left out’.

In addition while I  have been having  social distance walks with friends  cause I know they  have also been in lockdown, once they are out in the community again I will have to think carefully about who I will walk with.

So, the future is a bit bleak. Just more of the same but now  doing it on my own and sadly I can’t make any plans because I have no idea when I will be getting out. What a bundle of sunshine I am. I did warn you.

Interestingly I am not alone in this feeling of unease.  Many people I have spoken to  also have uneasy feelings.  Some have so enjoyed being furloughed that they are now not looking forward to returning to work. Ironically they quite envy me.  The grass is always greener. They have said that they have never felt so healthy.  The lack of pressure and the relaxation has really worked for them.  I commented to one of my girlfriends yesterday when she sat in my garden, that she looked fantastic and her reply was; ” yes because I have not had work hassles and stress. Am just loving it.”  Another friend who is a child minder for the past 15 years has given the parents notice as they have decided they have so loved the peace that they no longer want to look after other people’s children. Others have said that they are now looking at ways of  changing  the way they work.

I do realise of course we are a privileged bunch of people and we live in a bubble that is not shared by the majority of the UK or the rest of the world. And experts have warned that post lock down the UK may well face a tsunami of mental health issues.

But COVID19 has created a paradigm shift in every part of our society. Both positive and negative. On a positive front it is forcing us to redefine how we live, what we value, how the government works, how society works and the relationships we have with people.  Whereas prior to the virus society focused on status, power, wealth and celebrity – now other things will take precedence.

On the negative front I think many of us felt, unwisely as it has turned out, that science and technology would keep us safe and sound. But this virus is bigger than anything we have ever had to confront before and currently we have no defence against it except social distancing and face masks. And this makes us all feel very vulnerable.

I am convinced that by this time next year they will have found perhaps not a vaccine but treatment for the virus. But in the meantime, I am going to have to find a way of making the most of this enforced isolation without becoming over emotionally indulgent. I will remember the words of Emily Dickinson “I dwell in possibility”.

On a happier note I just watched Obama graduation speech, and that voice and that face makes me feel instantly happier.




Note to self: find more things every day that make you feel happy.

“Let’s be careful out there”



My Ebay

The clutter is getting to me every time I walk out of my bedroom, I am confronted with Capodimonte, Cole Port, Wedgewood, brass candlesticks, an abundance of tea services, plates, silver cutlery – get the picture. Something has to be done. So today I have ear marked it as eBay Day. And I have been at it for a good few hours but only managed to put 2 things on the site. I guess there must be an art to this and it’s an art that I don’t possess. I am fast losing the will to carry on.

However, under the recommendation of a friend I moved on to Etsy. “It’s easy,” she said. “Really anybody can do it.” It took me nearly an hour to find the sell button. Clearly, I am less than ‘anybody’. By the time I had finished entering my details in the various required boxes – repeatedly – over and over AGAIN because I kept getting the message that something was missing – don’t you hate it when this happen; You judiciously fill everything out and press continue and that little red message appears – Error!  You just think what’s the point? Throat slitting time..

 It reminded me of my days at secretarial college learning book keeping. I would begin with the Trial Balance and I knew as I was working through the trial bit that it was a waste of time as it was never going to balance at the end.  It’s all about box filling! And doing it the right way. I get the feeling in life that if there is a wrong way to do things then I will probably do it the wrong way.  So 2 hours into Etsy and just one set of Capodimonte listed. Lockdown is going to be well over by the time I finished listing everything.


I don’t think I am the kind of person that is cut out to sell. I just want somebody to come and take it all away. But I am worried that I might have one thing which is worth a fortune. You know like the person who goes into a shop buys a picture and then finds underneath it there is another picture worth 10 million. My mother would be furious if she thought I had given away a valuable treasure. There would be a whole host of bobby pins in my bed! And it is her wrath which is spurring me on. Although I have a sneaky suspicious that it is all worthless.

We also have thousands of old coins. 3 large bags of threepence pieces – remember those? Pennies going back to 1870’s. Farthings,  Shillings, Florins, Sixpences  two pennies etc. Did I mention that I come from a long line of hoarders? I have made a deal with Linda that if she sorts the coins — she is not working at the moment – then we can split the profits. I am convinced that among the thousands of coins there will be one that is going to make us millionaires. In the meantime, if any of you are interested here are a few other choice pieces that will hit eBay and Etsy tomorrow if I can muster up the energy.


Ever had one of those conversations when you are talking at cross purposes. Today was a classic. I had just finished my Pilates class with Penny when the phone went, and it was Penny.

Me: “Oh Hi Penny you look fantastic – so trim and fit.”

Penny: “Really I am not feeling that fit.”

Me: “I so wish I could be as flexible as you I feel quite inadequate.”

Penny: “Actually I have been feeling quite stiff especially in the mornings I think may because I am not moving around enough at night.”

Me: “Well it certainly doesn’t show”And so on – get the drift.

The conversation continued for nearly 10 mins before Penny said, “Do you know which Penny you are talking to.” Clearly not the Penny who I had just done Pilates with. But I did feel inadequate when I had the post Pilates conversation with Pilates Penny. Who is teaching both Pilates and Yoga on Zoom,  doing a number of on line courses, has various craft projects on the go, in the process of buying a new house, walking on the beach  and making good food.  Just writing this blog is about all I can muster on some days.

Note to self:  Get out of bed earlier. Be more proactive. Enroll on a course. Take up a craft. 

“Let’s be careful out there”