Mugshot – Pooh bear

          I’ve bought a couple of new mugs … Mugs are a bit like hats … I never really “need” a new mug, we have far too many, but if you give me just half a chance, I’ll buy a new one.

          I enjoy my coffee, I drink mostly de-caf, but I enjoy it anyway, and if I can drink it from a mug which makes me smile, then I enjoy it even more. We very often bring home a mug from a holiday, in which case the “holiday memento” excuse comes into play.

          A half excuse arrived after I was given a large mug for Christmas last year … I like a big cup of coffee so I always use the double coffee selection on my machine. I have a couple of large cups, but they’re too tall, I have to hold them at an angle. The one I had for Christmas last year was normal height, but wide enough to hold the double cup selection, and milk, without overflowing so, of course, I’ve been on the lookout for mugs of the bigger size ever since.

          I don’t remember many of the stories about Pooh bear and his friends, but I do remember the general gist of the friends and so can’t help smiling at their pictures. I remember the Tigger song well, and was spotted singing it again recently to Grandson, The Little Man. He was teething, and not feeling very happy … quite rightly so I might add, but even while teething it is pretty much impossible to cry when someone is holding you close and bouncing up and down to the Tigger song so that every cry you make comes out of your mouth as some sort of bouncy giggle.

          I remember Eeyore, he was always sad, and his tail was held on with a safety-pin, but even though he wasn’t the life and soul of any party, his friends always included him in their stories.

          Winnie the Pooh, and Piglet too ! I had forgotten about little Piglet … I think it’s way past time for me to brush up on a few of the friend’s shenanigans again.

          The human brain is programmed for facial recognition so that we are able to easily recognise others of our species. My brain, being a little bit strange recognises faces and other things which aren’t really there … or are they ? Once I point these things out to others they can usually see them too.

          For instance, when I used to be sitting in the dentist chair looking up at the ceiling trying not to think of all the nasty noises the dentist was making in my mouth, I used to concentrate on the Pixie face smiling back at me from the swirls in the ceiling …

          When we left the old house behind to move to our new house at the seaside, I had a number of “Strange goodbyes” to say to the faces I had befriended in the pattern of the vinyl floor in the littlest room upstairs …

          More recently, whilst waiting for the concrete floor to dry out in the littlest room downstairs I spotted a ” Cat lady” …

          … And let’s not forget the young girl pushing her brother on a swing in the “Squiggles” of the old floor tiles in the bathroom here before they were replaced.

          Now, bearing this in mind, it really is no surprise that the probably random lines forming the grass in the picture on my mug started tugging at my marbles … so much so that I began to be glad I had bought the mug for myself and not for a colleague in work …

          See for yourself …


          I like fun

          With you at the office

          Can you make out any more hidden messages ?

Christmas cake

          We’re still waiting for Christmas 2020, but the girls sent us a Christmas Eve box full of goodies because we weren’t going to be able to celebrate together.

          Amongst other things, the box contained a small cotton bag full of marbles with a label “Mum’s marbles” attached to it… Needless to say, I’ve put them safe somewhere and can’t find them.

          Hubby doesn’t like Christmas cake so unfortunately the responsibility fell on me to dispose of this one. Having been dieting for three months with quite satisfying results, I had chosen my Christmas treats carefully, enough treats to feel that I had enjoyed them, but not too many do as to blow the diet out of the water. This added Christmas cake was very welcome, but very unexpected, so I hit on a plan to keep it as a “milestone reward” on the diet… It had a best before date of August 2021, so that gave me a good few months to hit the next target.

          I put a couple of pounds on over Christmas, as expected, but the sudden increase in niceties kick-started the metabolism again and I lost the excess the following week.

          I’ve had the odd hiccup here and there, also the odd migraine, taking away food that my body is used to can be almost as problematic as introducing something new, so even while dieting I’ve been balancing my sugar levels with a piece of fudge morning and night with my caffeine, and I still eat a handful of cashews each morning (albeit a smaller handful than I have been eating).

          Once in work, during one particular January which seems like an age ago now, I was called into the office for a “back to work” meeting after I had just returned from a couple of nights off with a migraine. After the usual questions and answers, a strange comment cropped up. “There appears to be a pattern in your sickness” …

          Well, speaking as someone who wouldn’t dream of going off sick unless I was actually ill, I was genuinely shocked at the suggestion that because my job changed slightly each January because of a post-Christmas lull in my normal work routine, that I wasn’t happy, and was going off sick so that I didn’t have to do the different work ….

          Sceptical was an understatement for their reaction when I explained the real reason I had more migraines in January than at any other time. I eat too many nice things over Christmas, and then cut them out again in January in an attempt to diet every year… New year, new me sort of mentality, and that’s what caused the migraines. I decided there and then never to diet again in January. Always to wait until February, and had the manager write as such in my notes.

          Sure enough … I was off work with a migraine the following year after dieting … in February.

          But my mind wanders… No surprise there.

          The main point of this post is to remind myself that I do have the willpower to diet if I put my mind to it. When I stepped on the scales in September they didn’t quite say “one at a time please”, but they did scream at me for allowing my weight to creep up to over two stone above the target I had set myself to reach by the time I was forty .

          Forty slipped by, I saw my target weight on the scale for about 30 seconds after a short illness before I was fifty and as sixty approaches, my feet hurt, my knees hurt, my hips and my back hurt and I need a rest half way if I attempt more than one flight of stairs.

          I broke the two stone down into targets of four half stones, engaged other family members for help and encouragement and began.

          Five months on and I’m celebrating my half way mark with my Christmas cake.

          I have just two more days left of “cake for breakfast” and then off I go again knowing that I’ve passed the peak of the diet and the rest is downhill all the way.

Sun hat


          My poor old sun hat has finally been given the rest it deserved.  I bought it many, many moons ago.   I can remember it was on an outdoor market stall and I seem to think we were out with Hubby’s Uncle and Aunt, I think they were visiting our neck of the woods, not the other way around. But the memory blurs if I try to see past the refreshments van nearby where Uncle and Aunty waited for us so I can’t work out where we were.  I can’t see whether the girls were with us or not, I can’t find them in the memory at all.  I’ve guessed at having the hat for about ten years, but when I put it on I rolled the sides up into a cowboy hat like Madonna in her video… And Mr Google has just shocked me with the release date of of twenty years ago for that song.

          My sun hat has been in and out of the washing machine more times than you could imagine, the thin wire in the rim just crumpled into my handbag and opened out again for me to shape the hat to whatever the mood took me.

          The hat has been to numerous holiday destinations, and accompanied me for the whole time I was “building the garden“.  At one time I dropped my sun hat on the way to work, I retraced my steps as far as time would allow but to no avail and the loss of my hat affected my smile throughout the whole shift.  Hubby met me from work and instead of his favoured route home along the prom, we walked home the way I had walked in. We found it, looking very grubby and wet, it had landed in a puddle of rainwater from the night before.  It looked very sorry for itself indeed, but I was overjoyed to see it and took it home for the washing machine once more.  I finally had to admit that my hat had turned into one of those hats that only its mother loves.

          Just like me, it started to show a little wear and tear and the colour was more than a little faded.  The wire in the rim broke into many pieces so I replaced it with the earth wire from a length of electric cable, but although the rim protected me from the glare of the sun, it no longer rolled at the sides, and wouldn’t just squash into my handbag anymore so I started to watch out for a replacement.

          As many smiles to the £1 as my hats give me, I do tend to limit my spend as I do drop them now and again.  My orange hat has gone just that way at the moment and so I have been dredging online for a suitable replacement.

          Imagine my joy when I instead found a hat which perfectly matched my sunhat.  The picture to go with the description had a different flower pattern around the rim, but the rest sounded to good to be true.  Of course, I sent for it immediately… And the cynicism which has rubbed off on me from Hubby over the years, the part of me who has started to think that “if something seems to good to be true – it usually is” is firmly back in the box.

          And as for the orange hat replacement… I’m still searching so that will be another story.