Hangover

On Saturday night, The Boy and I cracked open a bottle of champers to celebrate being in our new home and finally filling his old room. 

Unfortunately, that is about the last thing I remember from Saturday night. 

I don't remember drinking French Martini's in some random bar. 

I don't remember severely scratching my eye with a poorly coordinated high-five follow through. 

I don't remember falling down, falling off my chair, and falling down again and stumbling all over the place.

Old School Charm

One thing I genuinely love is my readers, and I particularly enjoy it when my readers come up with a rather interesting blog topic. Hence this post. Many times in the past have Mrs N and I discussed our mutual love of handsome movie stars from a bygone era and yesterday I spent a good hour or so daydreaming about their raw sexual energy.

Their charisma and charm made young girls swoon and you can tell just by watching them that they were men, not boys. Men who could seduce women with their words and a simple glance rather than their looks.

Family Heritage in Dunstable

Over the Easter long weekend, The Boy and I took a little overnight jaunt to the small, sleepy and somewhat dreary town of Dunstable. Why, you may ask, on earth did you go there?

Well, it is the town where my father grew up before he immigrated to Australia in the early 1960s. So really, it was my duty as a loving daughter to go and check it out.

So - Dunstable, in the heart of Bedfordshire is not much to look at. The town centre is much neglected with closed down and boarded up stores as far as the eye can see.

My Mother's Daughter

I have an announcement.

It's finally happened. The one thing I always hoped and prayed wouldn't.

This week I've found myself putting up the bathmat, spraying the shower screen with daily shower cleaner and making the bed. I even turned the radio down in the car the other day as I couldn't hear myself think. 

Not only that, I have been seriously contemplating ironing the sheets before I put them away, because after all it is quite nice getting into a bed with clean, ironed sheets.

All this amounts to is the rather disturbing fact that I have officially turned into my mother.