You’ve got it all. Power, passion, precision, and style. You’re sensuous, exotic, and temperamental. Sure, you’re expensive and high-maintenance, but you’re worth it.
Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.
I want to say thanks to my HTML expert hubby for showing me how reduce the size of this image - it was really bugging me before - I do have this tiny little perfectionist streak!!!!!
My fingers are less painful so I thought I would have a go with this…….. do have a go yourself if you like!
1. When you look at yourself in the mirror, what’s the first thing you look at?
I notice the grey in my hair and think how much I am getting to see my mother’s reflection in the mirror!
2. How much cash do you have on you?
None - I am like the Queen - I don’t carry cash around!!! Actually it is none. I don’t have my handbag with me and I don’t have any pockets so no money at all I am afraid - not that there is that much in my purse - about £1.50..
3. What’s a word that rhymes with “TEST”:
Zest - something I wish I had more of!
4. Favourite planet?
Well, it has to be Venus really doesn’t it?
5. Who’s the 4th person on your missed call list?
Home number
6. What’s your main ring tone on your cell phone?
“Hey Sexy Lady” by Shaggy - that is the tune I hear when Ed rings me and it is usually him who calls!!
7. What shirt are you wearing?
Not wearing one - wearing a sweater
8. Do you “label” yourself?
I used to. I used to call myself stupid all the time - but I have stopped that now by using a positive self talk procedure..
9. Name the brand of your shoes you’re currently wearing?
Clarke’s
10. Bright or Dark Room?
Bright usually - definitely dark when I have a migraine!
11. What do you think of the person who posted this?
I think he is a warm, sensitive man who is deeply in love with his wife of nearly thirty years, and no, it was not Ed!
12. When did you last drink alcohol?
Christmas Day.
13. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Sleeping on my own as hubby is NEVER in bed before 1.00am
14. What did your last text message you received on your cell phone say?
“Just wondering how your week is going” from my Slimming World consultant.
15. Do you click on “Pop-Ups” or Banners?
No - not any more since I was shown the error of my ways!!!!!!!
16. What’s a saying that you say a lot?
Would you like a cup of tea? LOL!!!!
Do you have any homework?
17. Who told you they loved you last?
Ed
18. Last furry thing you touched?
A Hairy package found under son’s bed – once contained a pastry! YUCK!!!!!!
19. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed?
None - but there are three disposable camera’s there waiting to be developed!!!
20. How Many Times Have You Done It In The Past Three Days?
I have been doing I.T. all day if you are meaning Information Technology!!!! Well, what else could you be referring to anyway!
21. Favourite age you have been so far?
40’s
22. Your worst enemy?
Myself - lack of confidence!
23. What’s your current desktop picture?
Not in control of the content - it is some woman sitting on the beach, looking wistfully out to sea - (actually, it is photo of me from about 20 years ago that Ed has on this computer!)
24. What was the last thing you said to someone?
What time do you want to leave? - I have to take Ed to collect the car from the garage where it has been for the last few days after it “died” on Ed on Sunday night!
25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or change a regret what would it be?
Take the money and run!!! - I have had a few regrets in my life but they are done and dusted now. And actually, my main regret at the moment is lack of money so this would solve two things wouldn’t it?
26. Do you love/like someone?
Silly question! Of course.
27. Have you done anything illegal?
Apart from speeding, not that I know of!!! -
Actually, coming back to this, there was an incident involving a hidden bottle of Southern Comfort, an Irish Guard and a Custom’s Officer - but that was over 25 years ago and we got away with it!!! - They were far more interested in looking for Terrorists than contraband at the time. A member of the Royal Family and his family were blown up on their boat a week before this incident. We were very small fry! (and very young) Does that count?
I will write more of “the story”, really I will.
It is just at the moment I am having trouble with my hands - or should I say my fingers and I am finding typing very painful and hard work. As well as that, I am making loads of typo’s too!! The final straw was when I failed to grasp a cup and saucer that someone handed to me and I ended up with tea all over myself and the floor!!
So, I am imposing a typing break on myself for a few days in order to let the fingers rest a bit and see if that will help. I am taking some anti-inflammatory medication and hope it improves in a few days. Otherwise, it is a trip to the Doctor’s for me - again!
Meanwhile, I will have time to move the story forward in my mind and I look forward to writing more soon.
There is nothing wrong with this phone is there? Ed is trying to persuade me to join the techno age!!!
It is stylish, great for texting, has a brilliant battery life and
it is my friend. OK - there is no camera, or mp3 player. I don’t receive e-mails or access the internet on it - though I could if I wanted to.
I am going to need a lot of persuading to part with it……
Luddites of the world unite.
All in Love is Fair
Stevie Wonder
All is fair in love
Love’s a crazy game
Two people vow to stay
In love as one they say
But all is changed with time
The future none can see
The road you leave behind
Ahead lies mystery
But all is fair in love
I had to go away
A writer takes his pen
To write the words again
That all in love is fair
All of fate’s a chance
It’s either good or bad
I tossed my coin to say
In love with me you’d stay
But all in war is so cold
You either win or lose
When all is put away
The losing side I’ll play
But all is fair in love
I should have never left your side
A writer takes his pen
To write the words again
That all in love is fair
A writer takes his pen
To write the words again
That all in love is fair
You will see below that I have posted the next installment of the story.
I have been in a quandry.
I have deliberately used a technique that I thought was effective, of not using character names - trying to keep a little intrigue, or distance away from the characters.
Then I wrote this and thought that it was getting a bit too confusing having her and Her. So I gave Her a name. Then, I had second thoughts about this and so re-wrote it again, using the same format as before.
So, if you are getting confused - let me know.
If it fine and you are still with me, then great.
Feedback invited.
Thank you!!!!!
You know, she did love him. In her way, in her world, he was the centre. He was her one. Her constant. They were going to grow old together. Have babies together. Her father had gone (left her mum and brothers and sister) - trading them in for a younger wife. Younger family. It was because of her father that they had moved here in the first place. It was because of his job, he was the reason that they had to uproot and she was thrown into this new town, like a sacrificial lamb. Gone was the security of familiarity and in its place was the strange, the unknown. It was so different here. How was she supposed to fit in, make friends? How could she? Joining in one year before the exams. Not good timing. In fact, the worse time! Four years of friendship groups. Four years of bonding. Breaking into established cliques. No Room. No room for the “new girl”. It was hard. Oh friendly enough on the outside. But, no-one to walk home with. No-one to eat lunch with. No-one to laugh with. Yes. It was hard, but eventually bonds were formed, cliques were broken. There was one girl she used to sit with in class. She was nice. Genuine. Actually listened. Oh and how good to be able to share the snippets of girly gossip with someone who giggled back.
And as time passed, and she had met him, it was with her that she shared his poems. It was with her that she shared her hopes. Her expectations. Her hurts. But she didn’t share it all. She kept some things back - she didn’t share the sexual explorations and exploits. She would not have liked that. Shy. Prudish even. No - she kept this to herself.
But, when the first flush of passion and lust had evolved into a breakdown of relationship and trust, it was good to be able to share this with her. She listened. She never interfered. Just listened. She knew that he was her centre. Her constant. Her one. She knew that she loved him. She knew that he hurt her, just as much as she hurt him. She knew this, because now he was sharing things with her as well. She liked this. At first she liked this. How easy it was to put little ideas into her head that would find their way to him. She would always take her side. She was Her friend after all. And how easy it was to manipulate. And as things got messier and more muddied, and the aches started changing into painful hurts, there was something cathartic about seeing her becoming more and more embroiled, enmeshed and drawn into the web. Her web. And so the manipulation started and grew and expanded and entrapped and exploded and destroyed and festered.
And still she stayed. Listening. There. Picking up the pieces after yet another argument. The calming presence. The sensible voice of reason amongst the tangled, tortured, tainted remains of a love that had run its course. She was there. Trapped.
Yes, she loved him you know. They were going to grow old together. Have babies together.
He was her centre. Her constant. Her one. Her Spring. Her normality. Her lover. Her lever. Her toy. Her tool. Her torture. Her knowing. Her unknowing. Her unforgiving. Her undoing. Her Winter.
Oh yes, she loved him, you know.
But by now, her “friend” did too.
Lovin’ You - Minnie Riperton
Lovin’ you is easy cause you’re beautiful
Makin’ love with you is all I wanna do
Lovin’ you is more than just a dream come true
And everything that I do is out of lovin’ you
La la la la la la la… do do do do do
No one else can make me feel
The colors that you bring
Stay with me while we grow old
And we will live each day in springtime
Cause lovin’ you has made my life so beautiful
And every day my life is filled with lovin’ you
Lovin’ you I see your soul come shinin’ through
And every time that we oooooh
I’m more in love with you
La la la la la la la… do do do do do
The bus journey the next morning seemed endless. Endless but still, all too soon, it was time to get off and get on with the day. She paused outside the door, heart racing. How was she going to do this? Cool cucumber façade hid ruby red tomato embarrassment as she pushed open the door. It was heavy and she had to push fairly hard to make it open. This morning it was even heavier than normal. Heavy heart. Heavy door.
As she passed the threshold, her eyes scanned the room. Where would she sit? Where was the first empty chair? There was a seat close by. Thankfully she scuttled for cover, walking purposefully, head down, praying for the cloak of invisibility and anonymity. Just a few more steps. Relief. Safety. Haven.
But, as her knees bend to sit, her eyes are drawn to a spot on her right. There he was. Standing. Watching. Waiting. Waving. He is beckoning to her to come and sit by him. Red tomato embarrassment flushing her face, the sit became a stand and she took the few awkward steps to join him, her steps, accompanied by the collective noise of several indrawn breaths. Could she stay upright long enough? Her step, her stumble drew her closer. 10 seconds of time became a 10 mile walk as time froze in an instant.
Eventually, time kick-started back and she was standing there next to him. She could see the crinkled crease of the smile around his eyes. The welcome was almost palpable - his gesture warm and indicated that he wanted her to sit with him - it seemed as if he had even saved the chair for her - but surely not?
So she sat, like a rabbit caught in headlights and as she sat she became aware of the stilted hum of restarted conversations as the background noise level was suddenly turned up a notch or two, drowning out that sound of silence that thudded so ominously in her ears as she walked. That hum was swelled by the pleasantries they exchanged. Amazingly, words escaped from her frozen mouth. Yes, she was fine. Yes, it was cold this morning wasn’t it! How could it be so normal? How could HE be so normal? Did this mean that there was hope? Slowly a tiny thread of hope unravelled from the huge knot of despondency that caged her heart. Did this mean that they might have a future after all?
Her ice-clad mouth gradually formed more words as the glow of hope warmed her. And then silence. First, a sudden hush of expectation fell across the room. Then, as the slow blush of realisation hit her full pelt in the face, her words slammed to a halt as she became aware of the reason for the silence. For there She stood, framed in the doorway, eyes locked on the two of them, enveloping the whole room in her stare. In the silence of the moment, the tiny glow of hope vanished as she felt the tight grasp of ice-bars capture her heart again and locked it tightly in their frozen grip. So tight was their grasp that her heart failed to beat for a split-second as she realised that She was making her way over to them. Then another tight grasp and a brief, momentary gasp as she realised that the empty chair that she was occupying now, must have been meant for Her all along. How could she have been so stupid?
So she sat, face now rapidly deserted by the cucumber cool and replaced by the tomato red blush of embarrassment, waiting for the impending consequence of the night before. Would it be the sting of words that assaulted her? Or would it be the sting of hand across face? The whole room waited, breath momentary withheld in anticipation of the onslaught.
But, cucumber cool She came, and sat down on the arm of the chair next to her. And the room was again filled with the breath and chatter of crisis averted. Relief. There would be no scene this morning.
Normality. Calm. But for one of them, heart now firmly locked in the icy cage of despair, normality was a state that she was to yearn for all too often over the following few months. For as the bell rang out for the start of the day, the door of the cage around her heart slammed firmly shut and the key was turned and removed and hidden.
She ran.
For, as they danced that final dance, she saw Her, standing there behind them.
She turned and backed away. She left the room with that image firmly etched in her mind.
Her image. Her face. Her stance. Just her. Her look. Her face.
That face. Such beauty. The pale clear skin topped by shiny dark hair. Those flashing dark eyes. But that beauty was marred, at that precise moment, with such spite and malice, and just a hint of disbelief, because, for those last few hours, the poor relation, the ugly duckling, had spent the evening with her Prince Charming. And this particular Prince Charming was the same one who just happened to have spent the last few months, trying on the glass slipper on Her dainty little foot. This same Prince Charming who had, up until very, very recently, been due to take that particular Princess to the Ball.
That look said it all.
And with that look the bubble burst. How could she be so foolish? How could she be so naïve? Did she really think that he could be interested in her?
Pop!
Hopes. Dreams. Fancies. It could never be.
Pop! Gone.
Why would he choose her when he could have Her?
Oh yes, appetising enough in a homely way. Of course a bowl containing two scoops of ice cream is quite refreshing on a hot day and following a meal, ends off the experience on a cool, sweet, pleasant note. But why would he chose plain ice cream when, laid before him was an ice cream sundae. Piled high with cream, and cherries and sprinkles, it just cries out to be eaten. To be tasted. Why would he take a spoon to her simple dish when he was being offered such delights in another crystal cut glass bowl? The cream, oozing over the side, merging with the sweet confection decorating the outside, hinting of the pleasure to be found when this was removed. Why have plain when you could have opulence? Why have cotton when you could have silk?
He would never choose her. Her dream, just like ice cream, melted.
She turned and backed away. She left the room with that image firmly etched in her mind.
Her image. Her face. Her stance. Just her. Her look. Her face. That face.
She ran.
