Wednesday, 21 August 2019


UPDATE 21.08.19

I have vowed to continue with my blog even if I have only one reader left.  Even, even, if, that one reader left is myself.  I write mostly, it must be said, to amuse myself.  That is, I try to encompass in my writing features of some of the best writers I personally, have ever read because they wrote in such a way that their words touched me deeply.  I don't copy them per se, but I draw on those parts of their writing that resonate with myself.  All very narcissistic and very self centred I know, but I figure if something makes me chuckle, it will makes others chuckle too. Among my heroes is Bertie Wooster and his delightful Uncle Dynamite, on the Uncle Dynamite front, I strive to be the female equivalent, the most important thing any one of us can do is spread sweetness and light.

As can be seen, I am in the manic stage of bipolar, the fun bit, where I am on top of the world.  It totally makes up for the long drawn out depressive episodes.  It's probably the bit where arty types become creative and productive because it is accompanied by the belief that you can do anything. If you are stuck in deep depressive episode, the manic highs may as well be a million miles away and never expected to be seen again. I have learned to love them, my friends and family, not so much. 

But enough of the misery!  This blonde new, yes I'm going to say it, wild thing, is ready to hop on the back of a Harley and hit Route 66!  (arthritis permitting).  I have, not only my mojo back, but the ability to turn my very short bob into a massive 60's beehive, a la Dusty Springfield.  From a distance (Jupiter says Smartarsedson), and with a low light, I could pass for Dusty!  

Returning to my opening paragraph.  A writer writes always.  It is what we do and if we are enlightened, we appreciate each and every reader of our work.  It is validation that our words are resonating with others, perhaps we are putting into words what others are thinking?  I like to think to think it is the latter, which is why I like the interactive nature of this forum.  

It is unfortunate that my name and scribblings have been so horribly tarnished by my views on the Madeleine McCann case.  But ce la vie, I have never written anything I do not believe to be true, so my conscience is clear.  Whichever way you look at the case it is sad, on so many levels.

I want now to move on.  To write about the sort of subjects that interest me and that I hope will inspire readers to write in and express their thoughts.  There is a great line from Marx, Groucho not Karl, who apologised for raising an offensive subject, by reassuring the audience 'if ya don't like that one, I have plenty more', or thereabouts.   I have avoided so many subjects because I am already so unpopular.  Hopefully, with this new attitude, that will change!

Avec Pompadour!

Yeah, I'm blonde!

I don't know why I booked my hair appointment a week in advance, then added to the pain by making the appointment in the afternoon, doh!  

I am in the middle of a major anxiety attack, an attack that has literally lasted all week.  Today I will discover what lies beneath all those boxes of colour, and even more frightening, what it will be like facing the world with white hair!  

Happily I am quite accomplished at being able keep my internal screams of anxiety to myself, and at this point I am having to as there is no such think as 'hair crisis line', and my friends have stopped talking to me.  I jest, they are on standby, pink gin and ice at the ready ha ha, I'm hoping one will visit a patisserie.

Ah well, the scaffold awaits, I'm off for the chop.  If I survive I will put up pictures later!

Eeek, I am a blonde!  Sadly, the blonde is not so striking in the pics as it is in real life, pure white and ash blonde, I honestly don't recognise myself, lol.  I went off to the hairdressers, like a condemned man (or woman) to the gallows!  If the dear girl had said I will have to attach a cage of rats to your face while I do the bleaching, I would have said 'okey dokey', so resigned was I to the horrors that were to come.

Of course it wasn't like that all, quite painless actually, my mate came along to have her hair done at the same time (only a cut), but it made for quite a giggly, girly, afternoon and we hit the pub straight after!  

I cannot even begin to say how delighted I am with my new white/ ash blonde hair.  I have so over thought the whole going grey process, that I was fully resigned to going into the hairdressers as 'middle aged' and coming out 'old'.  But the most surprising thing happened - it didn't age me, apparently it has taken years off!  And it's not just me saying it! I'm even thinking of all the things I can get away with, not as a white haired old lady, but as a blonde bombshell, tee hee.  The first thing I'm gonna do is have a make up tutorial from a drag queen, a tad bizarre I know, but it's on my tick list, along with partying with Jack Nicholson in New Orleans and having a coffee in the Seinfeld café.  

Hairdressers and barbers I am sure, absolutely have their finger on the pulse when you get chatting.  Apparently my 'age group' are among their most 'adventurous' clients.  Maybe I shouldn't have, but I did point out the 'last chance saloon' factor, lol, who cares if we dare to wear our hear purple.  

As much as I want to be 'free from the dye' and released from the shackles of the 'white skunk' line, I don't think I am going to abandon colour or should I say colours from here on in.  I love the idea of temporary colours that I can play with and wash out.  I just don't want to be imprisoned anymore!


  1. Butler Bob’s Progress…

    Linda honey

    My mama told me “Never trust a gallant, drop dead gorgeouZ gentleman wearing a mankini, makin’ eyes and smiling sideways.”

    How many loved your moments of glad grace,
    And loved your beauty with love false or true,
    But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
    And loved the sorrows of your changing face

    Kick your shoes off, do not fear
    Bring that bottle over here
    I'll be your baby tonight.

    Butler Bob

    1. Aw Butler Bob, I'm deeply touched.

      I had kind of written men off entirely, as a species, decided they were too darn irritating. But then you come along and throw me a curved ball, and force me to rethink, perhaps they aren't all as bad I think, lol.

      Bless you Butler Bob, it seems I am not completely resistant to charm ;)

  2. Yep, I like Yeats as well but i@ll keep it simple.

    I'll take the set.Don't bother to wrap them :)


    1. Note taken. I'm begging your pardon. :)

      Perhapz for your ‘to read’ lizt

      “The Value of Victimhood: Liverpool, Labour and Lucky Luciana Berger
      February” by Tobias Langdon

      "The English port of Liverpool is famous for three things: soccer, music and violence. Historically it falls within the boundaries of Lancashire, but culturally it has never fitted there. It’s always been too self-assertive and idiosyncratic, so much its own place that its inhabitants go by two names. Formally, they’re Liverpudlians; informally, they’re Scousers.”


      Butler Bob

      PS Do you believe in a love at first sight?

    2. Well my oh my Z, I had always thought your intentions towards me were hostile, but all along you were the boy in the playground pulling my hair. Ahh, tis a fine line between love and hate.

      But talking about hair, which no-one wants to, lol, I am loving my new blond locks and so pleased I gave up trying to do it the hard way - cold turkey. This new blonde me is a character I haven't met before, and I kinda like her ;)

      I think Z, you think it is your place in this world to be smarter than any woman you meet. But the thing about smart people Z, is that they are the first to admit that there is so much they do not know. Their willingness to accept new information and adapt their thinking.

      When I first went into higher education I discovered just how dumb I was, my whole perspective on the world changed. Within weeks I stopped staying my nightly prayer, within 6 months I knew there was no going back. All these years on, I still feel as dumb as I did on that first day, because becoming engrossed in one subject leads onto other subjects that I need to learn about. Topics on which I know nothing are infinite and there is so little time. My need to know is part of my whole OCD thing.

      Well I don't know how I got there, I should get back to teasing you. I jest, I am delighted to receive your 'compliments', they are the cyber equivalent of a glass of bubbly :)