Today is the day ~ Grindstone

So far today I have organised the recycling, put out the rubbish, cleared up the dog pooh in the back garden, loaded the dishwasher with last night’s dirty dishes, and put a load in the washing machine. It is Friday and I just do not seem to have that ‘Thank God it’s Friday!’ feeling that Johnny Vaughan and Lisa Snowdon on the radio say that they have. It’s just a day like every other day apart from the fact that it is rubbish collection and recycling day. Whoopee!! How exciting…not!! I have had my first cup of coffee, just two to go. I suppose I could do my Wii Fit but having drunk a whole bottle of Rioja last night I do not fancy it telling me that I have aged by 5 years. It does that sometimes. It just seems to know when you have drunk too much, gorged yourself on a major pig out, and been a couch potato. Don’t ask me how it knows but it really does, and I really do not want to be told I am older than I am today so perhaps I shall leave the Wii Fit tucked away under the telly where it can do me no harm, and I shall not feel guilty. Also, I am sure there is no way that I can balance on one leg today, and I do not need it to tell me what I already know. I have also decided that I shall not sigh today. I spent a lot of time sighing and huffing and puffing, which is a sign that I need to add some excitement to my daily routine. I try very hard to be happy, and to do my various chores with a big fat smile on my face, and to be grateful for the fact that I am alive and therefore able to participate in these necessary tasks of daily life but at times I have to be honest and confess to being more than a little bored with the role of general dogsbody. Call me ungrateful if you will but I really wish that sometimes, someone bloody else would pick things up, put things away, clean the bathroom, take the rubbish out, pick up pooh and just let me have a day off. Oh shit…I just sighed and I said I would not do that today. I did it again. “Stop right there Mrs and pull yourself together”. I am talking to myself again. I seem to be doing this a lot of the time. I wonder if it’s true that talking to your self is the first sign of madness? Now let’s go and get that coffee and think about how I am going to change things today. I’ll have to have a shower first as I feel really sticky after the humidity of last night. At least I think it was humidity or maybe it was a hot flush. How are you supposed to know what it feels like to have a hot flush. They call it a flash in the US. I wonder who invents these phrases. And another thing my breasts feel really tender and yesterday I was crying and frustrated but I have only just finished my period. I have never heard of pre-menstrual tension after the event or then it would have to be called after menstrual tension. Bloody hormones!! I refuse to be a slave to them. I am a calm, rational woman fully in control of my actions and perfectly able to adjust to this time in my life when I am experiencing some changes. Changes I might add that all women go through, although for some reason they never really openly discuss. Who am I kidding, I am a woman and my hormones are totally out of control whether I like it or not. I am having my third and final coffee now, and am trying to decide whether to chance the Wii Fit. After all it might get it wrong for once and make me younger than I am, which if it did would make me feel so much better. Um, we’ll see, I’ll decide in a minute. Oh, decisions, decisions. And, I’ve just remembered that Friday is wages day. The day we have to pay our subbies, subcontractors to you. I better get that done or they’ll all be on the phone moaning. Bless them. My job is Company Secretary to the glazing business set up by my husband. For my sins I get to do all the office admin which sometimes I do not mind but for which most of the time I find a real chore, a necessary evil as it were. Although to be fair it does pay me well but then money is not everything but it does pay for holidays. You really can never have too many holidays. I love going on holiday. Back to the drawing board, the grindstone, I mean work. 

© Liola Lee 2010

Today is the day’ …was a collection of musings I wrote during the Peri menopause years. It’s spoken in the first person, and was based largely on my journal entries written around that time. Journalling is a wonderful way to express this, that and whatever else needs to be said whether aloud or silently…

And although as mentioned previously ‘Today is the Day’ is to be brought in to the 21st Century. I did say that the past would have it’s place. So here is one for ‘Throwback Thursday’ though in the post it’s actually Friday. 

 

 

 

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Today is the day ~ Fat

I have made a decision. It is one that I have made from time to time over the years at various stages of my life. At times, that decision has come to fruition, and at times it has not but not to worry for today is the day that I have decided to stop being fat. Maybe I am not hugely fat but definitely overweight, and much larger than I should like to be and most certainly much larger than I ought to be. Perhaps I am not so fat that I would require a bigger seat on an aeroplane but most certainly tipping the scales these days in the heavier, not lighter side of the perfect weight, for my slightly less than average height. I am not what I would consider too short but would not be seen as taller than average by others, but I always feel tall, so I guess I walk tall, and am therefore tall on the inside, though the outside does not give that away. Today is the day that the slim person who resides inside me with the tall person mentioned earlier, is coming out to play and stay. The short fat woman that looks back at me in the mirror is being evicted. She has been hanging around for far too long now and now it is time for the other me, the old me or rather the earlier me to return or maybe a newer me. And there lies my decision. I shall not be fat now or ever again. Think slim, be slim is my new motto. 

© Liola Lee 2010

‘Today is the day’ …was a collection of musings I wrote during the Peri menopause years. It’s spoken in the first person, and was based largely on my journal entries written around that time. Journalling is a wonderful way to express this, that and whatever else needs to be said whether aloud or silently…

Today is the day ~ A Little Princess

The truth is kids grow into teenagers arriving at that crossroads in life when they are neither child nor adult not fitting neatly into one camp or another and my god, do they let you know it at every given opportunity. They are a breed apart from mainstream human society. I do not use the term breed lightly as I believe there is a certain animal quality inherent in any individual between 13 and 19. They think they know it all, they accuse you of not caring and tell you constantly that you do not understand them. They are constantly bored, always critical, totally self-obsessed, self opinionated and make it their aim in life to get on your nerves on a daily basis. Where once they were endearing and cuddly, suddenly they are obnoxious and rude to the point where you really cannot believe that they are yours and that you actually gave birth to them. It seems strange that at this moment I should recall Mary Shelly’s novel Frankenstein. I guess she was not the only one to create a monster. Perhaps I am being too hard on the little darlings and they are not the least bit like monsters but with retrospect, I sincerely think not. There is definitely some connection. Teenagers really do exist. We as parents often ask ourselves what is it that we did to deserve such treatment from our offspring, when all we ever have is their best interests at heart. Surely they should be grateful to us for putting a roof over their heads, food on the table, clothes on their backs and giving lifts to concerts, clubs, parties, friend’s houses, school, shopping and of course the school run which would not have been too bad but with my middle child that meant to school and from school until he left at 16 and doing the same for his mates was a bonus for me on most days. And what about holding their hands at the dentist, the orthodontist, doctors and in the school playground, well at least until they got too embarrassed by you and would rather you kept your distance. This last observance about distance seems to last well into their teens. God forbid that their friends, most of whom you have known since infants should see them with you, their parents. On the rare occurrence where our daughter granted us with her presence, on the premise that she would get a new iPhone saw her walk several paces behind with her hood up so as to avoid recognition by any of her friends that may be loitering in the vicinity.  In my own particular case the list also included daily trips to the stable yard, and weekly trips to the local golf club. Did I mention the ballet classes and the weekly football? Yet all we get in return for our considerateness is eyes up to heaven, monosyllabic grunts, tuts, shakes of the head  and mutterings under the breath to indicate how irritating they find you. You are old and are not the least bit clued up about where they are coming from or where they are going. They speak a whole new language…’you get what I’m saying like’ and so on and so forth. I have given up correcting speech and grammar in favour of a peaceful life by simply turning a deaf ear when they do speak. However, by doing this I get accused of never listening but then why should I when the language I grew up with has been murdered and mutilated beyond all recognition. I am on my third and final teenager now. My first two are now in their 20s and parents themselves. If what goes around comes around then I will take great pleasure in watching my children suffer the storms and strops of the turbulent teens in turn, a sort of divine retribution shall we say where the Piper is paid back in kind, and when mum can sit back with a smug smirk on her face in an all knowing way. 

Just now our baby girl, currently 16 going on 26, is uppermost in my thoughts. It has been like that a lot lately. Until a few short months ago she was a wild unkempt tom boy who resembled a pikey rather than a little princess. For instance, if I had mentioned the word bra to her she would have recoiled in mock disgust at the thought of it. It was all I could do to broach the subject when she eventually developed sufficiently ample bosoms to require one. I remember one time watching Trinny and Susannah unashamedly grab the breasts of a woman they were restyling on their makeover tv show only to be accused by my daughter of exposing her to pornography. If she had seen a couple kissing on television she would have looked away, genuinely embarrassed. How times change, now she has realised that she has a fine pair of what my husband terms man magnets, a really cringe worthy image, he is a builder and such terminology frequently finds its way into the house, and she is more than a little proud of what she has in common with Jordan and not the least bit shy or modest even. Oh yes, times have certainly changed. My little girl has gone and grown up on me without warning. She is no longer my chicken in the library or my ferocious lion with sharp teeth and claws but has donned the appearance of a diva come rock chick right down to her perfectly pointed stilettos. On the subject of stilettos, she did insist on wearing them the other day to go shopping with her mates. I did warn her. My exact words were, I think “ Are you sure you want to wear those shoes?” well of course she was sure, she liked them and they looked ‘dead good’. I had to agree they looked great but mentioned that she might feel differently about them after wearing them for a few hours around the shopping centre. I was of course proved right, and there was no need to rub it in by saying ‘I told you so’. It did not need to be said…the pain in her feet and legs said it all. I do not believe she has worn those shoes since. To think that we use to watch From Ladette to Lady on television, and laugh laboriously at the dreadful pits to which these young girls would sink. It never occurred to me that I was harbouring a ladette in the making, although I like to think that she still has a few ladylike leanings but that is most probably wishful thinking on my part. Perhaps it is just a passing phase, just one of many. I thought it would be easier this time, firstly because I have done this before with two boys both delightful little cherubs when they were born, well at least for the first few weeks. They do not remain babies for long, and before you know it they soon grow into the men they are to become albeit bit by bit. If the law of attraction is true and I have no reason to believe that it is not the old saying many a true word spoken in jest takes on an entirely new meaning. Why oh why did I ever jokingly liken my sons to notorious twins. What was I thinking? Actually, I clearly was not thinking at all. How was I to know that by saying such things I was tempting providence, and unknowingly urging the Universe to accommodate me.

© Liola Lee 2010

(image is one I took of my lovely daughter who is and will always be my Little Princess)

‘Today is the day’ …was a collection of musings I wrote during the Peri menopause years. It’s spoken in the first person, and was based largely on my journal entries written around that time. Journalling is a wonderful way to express this, that and whatever else needs to be said whether aloud or silently…

Today is the day ~ Let the day begin

Let the day begin

15th July 2010 (am)

I am sitting here in the dining room contemplating what I shall write about today. So often I just write whatever comes into my head, and wonder if what I am writing is worth writing or whether it is just meaningless nonsensical crap that no one will ever read. I determine I shall aim to write at least 500 words, after all if I am to be a writer I must in fact write. 

It is very windy outside this morning, so much so that the willow tree is swaying heavily from one side to another; a dancing yeti embracing the universe, reminding me that once again another year has passed and we have still to cut it back; something we have been promising the neighbours for the last few years. I was all set to have the tree brought under control by tree surgeons but they turned out to be rogue traders. I was not fooled for long though, and once the price started to increase I knew that they were trying to rip me off and told them so. Once they knew I was on to them, they made a hasty exit but not before they had partially butchered my beloved willow, and left an almighty mess in the back garden. 

I have decided today to try really hard to do things differently, because if I keep doing things as I have been doing them, then nothing will change, and I so desperately want things to change. I am not unhappy but I lack direction just now, and want to find a pathway to follow. I spend too much time sighing and procrastinating over things which is without doubt holding me back. Sitting here with my head held in my hands, and tapping my fingers incessantly on the table whilst looking at the screen, and willing words of wisdom to come forth does not seem to be working. I have already had three cups of coffee which is the same as always. Why oh why did I not begin the day with a lovely cup of tea? 

Anyway, today is the day for change. I have not done my Angel cards for a while so think I may seek guidance from my Angels as to what I should be focusing on today. I also need to change my hair as it is getting on my nerves. This has nothing to do with my hormones. It is simply that I have looked in the mirror and can see a follicle disaster in full swing. 

The willow tree is still waving. I do hope it does not blow down. That would be a nuisance, now to think what to do today. I must go out, as over the last few days I have been somewhat reclusive and not really ventured out unless you include the daily trips down to Sainsbury’s with Steve. We go there everyday and seem to suffer withdrawal symptoms if we miss a day. Sometimes we go down more than once a day, which some may say is a little sad. It is certainly expensive! When we buy our next house we must ensure that we are far away from the local supermarket. We go in for a couple of items and always come out with a trolley full of food that we do not need nor want really. I am not really sure when we became addicted to food shopping but never a day goes by without us making Mr Sainsbury just that little bit richer. I am sure we are their best customers.

Sammy has just been down and offered me a slice of birthday cake. I questioned why she had bought a birthday cake, “Because I like it” was the answer which I guess is a fair response. I declined on this occasion, though to be honest I was a little tempted. However, a slice of birthday cake will do nothing for my waistline or rather, nothing for that place where my waist used to be. I should go out for a really long walk with Syd, that may clear a few cobwebs. I could walk Syd and drop some papers off to the Accountants therefore achieving the completion of two tasks in one go. It might rain but if it does I shall get a bit wet, so what, a bit of rain never hurt anybody, well not unless you think about those people who get hurt in floods and things, then I guess you could get hurt but just now it is a little cloudy and a little windy, and does not look as though it will flood in the near vicinity. 

I wonder if all women nearing the menopause ponder on such trivia as I do on a daily basis. I wonder if all women sigh as much as I do, and wonder what to do with themselves when they are not cooking, cleaning, ironing, dog walking, washing up and looking after the children. Although the children in my house are all pretty much grown up or at least they are when it suits them, and they never do that much for me. It seems to be understood that it is my role or duty to do everything around the house to make everyone else comfortable and content but what about me, who will do that for me? I guess I shall have to do it for myself but it is hard to do things for myself. I have spent so many years looking after everyone else’s needs that I have forgotten how to look after my own. Today though, I shall endeavour to address this balance and put myself first. I shall aim to please myself, not for selfish reasons you understand but for my self preservation. The time has come for ME… ME… ME…

Let the day begin. 

© Liola Lee 2010

‘Today is the day’ …was a collection of musings I wrote during the Peri menopause years. It’s spoken in the first person, and was based largely on my journal entries written around that time. Journalling is a wonderful way to express this, that and whatever else needs to be said whether aloud or silently…

A Housewife’s lament…

This was written back in 2007 or thereabouts. Housewives are often underrated but in reality they hold the home together. I was clearly feeling a little undervalued back then. I guess we all feel like that sometimes. 

Washing up still in the sink,

nervous sanity on the brink.

Breakdown bearing down on me,

a heavy weight they can’t see.

Sighs and cries are inwards kept:

can’t remember, when I last slept;

restless legs all night long,

tossing turmoil, mind all wrong.

A terraced trap surrounds for years,

losing courage, learning fears.

Identity crisis imminent,

unused brain now sediment.

Do the washing, clean the floor;

when that’s finished, there’s always more:

feed the kids, walk the dog,

when that’s done, clean the bog.

Wash the windows, make them gleam,

I’m going mad, I want to scream,

but there’s just too much stuff to do,

multi-tasking by one not few.

Make the breakfast, clear the side;

demands keep coming, I want to hide.

Do the shopping, make the tea,

“if there’s time love” pamper me.

© Liola Lee 2007