I feel pretty ..oh so pretty until.....

Here I am again readers with my ramblings. I get the impression you quite like them as I keep getting texts with supportive comments. Write them on the flamin blog that's what the comments box is for!

Anyway I broke up today for annual leave. I have no clue why I still refer to it as "breaking up" like I did when I was a school. Shudders at the thought of school, built up Dorothy shoes, eye patch not to mention the knitted swimsuit. (Goes to safe place, imagines lapping water round my body and whale music, phew flashback averted).

I think when you know you are about to finish work to embark on a rest period your brain slows down and you feel in a fiesta mood all day. It was a lovely day today at work and I think that was because I wore a red flower. I like wearing some corsage thingy sometimes, its a bit vintage and it brightens my day. I think it brightens my day because so many people comment on how pretty I look, or radiant or just plain lovely. I smile a lot too generally, I know it makes me look a bit special sometimes but I think it can be infectious.

One of the psychiatrists stopped me today (no sniggering the psychiatrist reference is a red herring, so bog off) and said, "you look lovely today" to which I responded oh the flower, it brightens my day really. Then she  stopped me, touched my arm and said "No dear its you that brightens our day". I blushed and I got a lump in my throat. Living here isn't always a picnic and I often get homesick missing the North, but its moments like those that make me glad I am here.  

So today has been a happy day. I did resuscitation training for the dental hospital, and for those that have worked with me professionally, know I am at my happiest when teaching. I love what I do and I have a passion for resuscitation. It was a fabulous session with great evaluations.

On my way home I made a few calls, and all I can say is my flower wilted not because of the down pour that ensued but because well I was reminded about being older on Friday. Indeed its my birthday and for the record I am no where near BLOODY 50!!!!!  (whale music, lapping water, lapping water!!!).
Yes I am 41 (coughs). I am not so keen on that, I thought 40 was bad but when someone points out you are getting nearer 50, its not lovely or radiant. 
I believe I don't look it so that's a saving grace but within one week I have received left on shelf comments and being nearer 50, so it makes you think.

I trundled home and thought gawd when did one year past 40 become near 50. Numeracy has been known to be on the decline in our educational institutes, I will blame that.

So I sat at home sucking in my face in the mirror, pulling at the skin round my eyes, checking if I had a waddle. Then it happened it actually flashed through my mind for a fleeting second would I consider plastic surgery? Could this be the moment I take a photo of my sister looking like Lady Di and telling the surgeon, I will have that please.

It was only for a moment as my response was bollocks to that I am off to watch Columbo. I can always lie about my age and Columbo fixes all misery. I mean who is to know my age and Columbo isn't telling anyone; as my soul mate died recently aged 83 yrs old.

When I think about Peter Falk as Columbo I only remember him as younger not as ageing. I can be like that, forever young. OK, OK I appreciate that his neverending youth was because he was on the telly in many channel 5 afternoon film re-runs, but you get the principle,

So in the words of my idol and tweaked a bit my me...."Just one more thing.....I ain't 50"