Teapot

I went to visit my sister last weekend. I admired her flat, her child, her dress and her general style. She produced dainty cakes and tea in a teapot. I bought her that teapot when she was a young teenager. It's got feet. I also bought her a mug on feet. I set off on a mission at the time. I lived way out in Middlesex and travelled in to Baker St and out again to Walthamstow market to buy her the set. Deed accomplished - I travelled all the way back to Baker St only to accidently bang the carrier bag against the platform wall. One foot snapped off of the mug. In those days I smoked. In those days you could smoke on stations. I seem to recall that I had a cigarette before returning to Walthamstow to buy her another mug. She's still got the teapot after all those years. It's a bit chipped, it's not user-friendly but it stands proudly on it's feet. It probably took four or more hours travelling on a busy Saturday many years ago. Was it worth it? Hell, yes!!

Got to admit it's getting better.........

Man at work is at mine again tonight. Last night was pretty disasterous really. After the arguement and the potential for a make-up. All was foiled by son waking up and being a cling-on. Son always and forever comes first and so the cuddles and reassurance were for son. Man at work fell asleep waiting in vain for his meagre portion of my affection. Bless. He's gone to get another curry which is why I'm typing this. Son is in the process of waking and asking where MaW is in a totally confused, sweaty childish logic. Such an above board, chaste relationship but it's ok, it's ok.

Time out

Do you ever feel that you are stretched that bit too far? I'm a mum, a friend, a sister, an ex, a girlfriend, a colleague and probably a threat. I'm never alone. I need a bit of time to myself to re-organise my thoughts. To make sense of the muddle. To decide if it's worth it. I need to hang over Long Bridge and watch the river flow beneath. I need to look up and see the cathedral spire rising like a rocket against the blue sky. Maybe the swallows and swifts are due to arrive. I'll book a day off. I need to be me for a day.

currying favour?

Man at work arrived at mine clutching the most beautiful bouquet of flowers this evening. Roses, lillies, gerberas and carnations all in shades of peach, cream and pale orange. He's now gone out to get himself a curry. He's a tad upset that I'm not hungry. I forgot that he mentioned a take-away curry earlier at work and I stuffed my face with garlicky spaghetti bolognaise when I got in. So - I smell like hell and he's hungry. Not a good combination. He's going to get his revenge by eating the raw onion relish, no doubt.

I don't know why he brought me flowers. He simply said that he wanted to give them to me tomorrow morning but was worried that they wouldn't survive overnight in his car boot. Yes, he's staying the night but we will be sleeping in seperate beds. It's a very long story.

Muddled

I'm in a muddle about the man at work. We survived the storming out episode but something has changed. Remember the Carole King song? '.......But it's too late baby, now it's too late. Though we really did try to make it. Something inside has died and I can't hide and I just can't fake it............'

I just feel a bit sad. Is it worth trying to save? When he asked me how I felt I replied 'unsettled'. He instantly assumed that was the end. I will learn how to crochet and become a slightly dotty old maid.

Ex It

Romance is dead or is certainly dying. Instead of staying to argue his point, he walked out. That's meant to be my trick. He stole my thunder leaving me to clear up and walk home alone last night from my friend's house in a slightly squiffy state. Luckily, I remembered to bring the Lindt chocolate bunny that she gave me earlier in the evening. I bit his ears off with justifiable anger when I got home.

Today has been full of texts and misunderstandings. There doesn't seem to be any remorse just hurt feelings and sadness. The Icelandic cloud of volcanic ash seems to match my mood. I could damage the paint of passing aircraft by merely glancing scornfully in their direction. Is it worth it? Is he worth the sadness and the empty feeling? I don't know. I really don't know so I'll dwell on it until it's too late. I'll push him away so that he feels better.

Man at work update

I've been out with man at work eight times. Is this classed as 'going steady'? It used to be but I've got no idea of the jargon nowadays (poor old dear). I was impressed last weekend when a pretty young thing caught hold of my shoulders in the ladies loo and asked where I got my tunic. Isn't it nice when someone pays you a compliment? It costs nothing but makes you feel really special.

Daffodils

I was so pleased to see the daffodil buds poking up through the grass in the gardens opposite my flat today. A seagull was manically trying to tap dance on them. I assume seagulls do this ridiculous stamping to encourage worms to come to the surface to see what's going on. I've really got no idea though. My son and I usually collapse in a heap of giggles at the seagull's concentration. We only seem to get the enormous herring gulls here. Hopefully, they will always have webbed feet as they would be truely frightening if they ever developed claws.

Sailor suit

My Dad was obsessed with sunshine. We kids were wrapped up and bundled into whatever car we had at every opportunity. My brother and I were a self-contained unit and my older sister ignored us. As long as there was 'enough blue to cut a sailor's suit out' in the sky - we were off. We would go to woods to pick primroses, cowslips and bluebells (years before they became protected species). We would hunt for orchids and gaze in amazement when we found an unusual one. We would go to the beach, as long as it was sunny, and still have grainy photo's of us huddled up against the cold wind taken by an old box camera. We hunted for shells, fossils and crab shells whilst checking the sky to see if the imaginary pattern for the sailor's suit still fitted into the blue.

Memories

Today, in 1971, we changed from pounds, shillings and pence to p's. Instead of adding up in 12's and 20's we all had to add up in 10's. It seems ridiculous now but it was difficult at the time. My friend and I spent all of our pocket money in Boots trying to add stuff up to get one over on the befuddled staff. No such thing as scanners and barcodes. Each price had to be entered in on the till.

It is also my Dad's birthday today. 1971 was the last birthday he ever had. He was 45. He will always be 45. I would've liked to have known him better.

No x text

Text arrived 24 hours later. I missed the little happy chirrup of an incoming message as I was dithering in Sainsbury's. I was trying to work out if I could physically carry any more than what was already in my overflowing basket. The walk home is uphill and my arms seem to get longer as the hill steepens.

I walked home smiling but regreting adding the fabric conditioner. My shopping was way too heavy to carry. I lugged it. The text simply said that he had taken his son into town to buy trainers and then had gone to his sister's for something to eat. He also asked if I was alright. No x's.

I replied once I got home (don't want to appear too eager!). I didn't put an x either. It's a start.

Still waiting

Man at work smiled at me today. I didn't see him yesterday so today was our first encounter since we both told the go-between (matchmaker?) that we liked each other. We smiled a brief secret sort of smile at each other across the crowded office.

Man at work is shy. I'm shy too although I have learnt to disguise it. It was only a fleeting visit to my workplace so I walked up to him as he was leaving, gave him my mobile number and asked him to text me. That was nearly six hours ago. Am I impatient? Yes!!!

Teenage angst?

A very strange day. It was like being a teenager again. Apparently, I'm going to be asked out, at some point in the future, by one of the men based where I work. His mate quietly explained and asked me what my answer would be. I quietly said that my answer would be 'yes'.

I shall now colour up alarmingly each time I see the man and concentrate madly on my pc.

Edible memories

Things that I used to enjoy (and probably still would if given the chance)

Spangles
Galaxy counters
Custard made with evaporated milk
Whipped-up-wotsit (jelly & evap mixed)
Buying sweets by the quarter out of a big glass jar
Sherbert lemons
Gooseberry tartlets with a big blob of cream on top

Double digits

My son will be ten soon. I clearly remember the excitement of hitting double digits. What a milestone it seemed to be. We won the world cup too.....purely as a result of me being ten.

Tunes

In another box there are several LP's. You have to be over a certain age to know what I mean. I tried explaining what a record was to my son last year. It's a big, flat, round bit of plastic with little grooves all the way round and a hole in the middle. Like a very big CD. You put it on a turntable that spins it around at a certain speed. Then you put a needle into the start of the groove and music/ singing comes out. My son simply raised an eyebrow (he takes after me) and told me not to be so silly.

Sisters are doing it

I found the poem that I suddenly decided to search for last night. My sister wrote it for me a long time ago. I got totally distracted (easily done, as you can probably tell) by one of the boxes under my bed. A paper bag was tucked down the side of photo albums which I managed to resist. The bag is full of letters from both of my sisters. I'm the middle one. The letters dated back to 1983. I only read a couple and they were fab. Isn't it strange that a letter or a song or even a smell can transport you straight back in time? One day soon I will carefully read them and savour the moment.

Carry on sister?

Should I carry on with this or not? I deliberately stopped as all I did was complain about things which, by anyone's standards, is dull and boring. Life is slighty different now. I am trying to be more positive. It's a little bit lighter every day and that makes a difference to me.

I usually walk a couple of miles every day without thinking about it. That has been impossible lately due to the covering of soggy smash otherwise known as snow. It was so nice to be able to walk at my normal pace yesterday. Sun was shining and the sky was blue. No ice or snow and the pavements were dry. I actually wore real leather shoes today, with a real skirt instead of my snow uniform of trousers and trainers.

I need to have a massive rummage under the bed and in boxes. I need to find a poem that I know I've got somewhere. It's in a handmade purple frame.