The Look of Love

My husband has just downloaded Dusty Springfield singing "The Look of Love" for me. He knows that at that moment in the evening when the bottle is nearly finished and the hour is late it is the song that I will want to sing along to. He never forgets the first time that I sang this to him in a pub when we were first together - not a karaoke moment, just a quiet, private song in the corner of a busy pub. I would be the first to admit that I cannot sing, at least not in tune, and I try not to inflict my attempts at singing on anyone but this is the exception, I can't help myself if it is playing, and he makes sure it keeps playing.

Annoyed? Me? Never!

I am trying to work this one out - it is 10am and I have got up, put the washing on, put the dishwasher on, and started cooking breakfast for three hungry children who are all demanding different food from me whilst my husband hides in the bathroom. So halfway through cooking enough hot cross buns to sink a battleship, whilst being heckled by 3 kids (who are all old enough to get their own breakfast, quite frankly), I suddenly thought "What am I doing?" and went on strike. You see the thing is it annoys me on a normal weekend that I work all week and then feel like the housemaid on the weekend, but today is Mothering Sunday and I am still waiting for my card. Or at least for someone to say "Happy Mother's Day"! Thank God it is back to work tomorrow!

Modern Life!

9.30pm Friday night. Soooo tired. Why was I never this tired fifteen years ago?

To Prune or not.

It is a Sunday, and, as with most Sundays, it is definitely not a day of rest. For us Sunday is a day of preparation, not relaxation, as the hoovering, dusting, cleaning, washing, shopping all get done in readiness to face another week at work and school.

And just as the house gets its general tidy and polish, it is also a day when I get to spend more than a quick two minutes looking at myself in the mirror to assess what up-keep I might need. Mostly this involves cleaning the things that should be there and removing the things that shouldn't! And as I pluck, shave or wax I always remember someone saying once that you can aways tell what a woman's pubic hair is like by the state of her eyebrows. I suppose it makes sense - if you don't bother to neaten up that which is on public display you are hardly likely to neaten up that which is hidden away!
And just for the record, I would like to think that my eyebrows are trim and shapely. Plucked, yes, but not too much - surely a little hair is better than nothing at all!