Happy New Year

Can you believe it has been over three months since I last blogged? Why? That same old cliche that ‘crazy busy’ people brandish about implying self importance and superiority – just too busy. What tosh, I just haven’t made the time, I should have and I am sorry.

So after an afternoon on the sofa under a bargain fur throw and two hairy beagles for company, (plus tea and crumpets and eventually wine), I have made some New Years resolutions and one of them is to spend more time blogging. By that I mean spilling my guts on the randomness of what swims about in my confused mind and the mentalist stuff that goes on in my life and my long suffering family, who will be ridiculed at various points.

Just think of me as your modern day Bridget Jones, all grown up. Let’s face it, I have the same addiction to the scales, a predictable relationship with wine as a fully fledged member of the wine o’clock club and a job in the media to boot. I even have my very own Mark Darcy who is the brunt of many of my jokes.

To say I will blog every day like a diary is probably foolish and will only set me up to fail…… So I am merely promising to visit more often, and THAT I can keep to.

So I bid you all and the year that was 2013 a fond farewell. I wish you all a splendid NEW YEAR and I will see you on the other side!

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In The Event Of An Emergency……

We have all sat there on a plane taxiing down miles of runway feeling fairly certain that we will shortly arrive at our destination without even taking off.  Meanwhile we absolutely do not stick our nose in a magazine, fall asleep or inspect the contents of the seat pocket in front of us rather than watching the important emergency procedures presentation.  “Exits are here, here and here. Should the air cabin pressure fail, oxygen masks will drop down from the panel above you. Place the mask over your mouth and nose and tighten, blah blah blah.” But what we don’t generally hear is, “Make sure you put on your shoes before assisting others.” Or do we?

Flight Attendant In Life Jacket

So when I had a nasty fall at Christmas I found out how seriously my husband takes accident and emergency instructions.  We were staying with family and had taken the two beagles with us. The house we stayed in was not beagle proof.  The back door led out to the garden, which was to the left and the driveway to the right led down to a busy main road.

The dogs wanted to go out, so to prevent them from rushing down the drive I thought I would hold on to both their collars, and as I opened the door I would attempt to steer them left towards the safety of the garden.  I opened the door and in an instant, and true to beagle spirit, they both charged out, pulling me out of the back door and up the two concrete steps to the driveway as I fell heavily onto my knees whilst my throat broke my landing on the edge of the step. It could be said that I hit the ground like a lift cut loose in a disaster movie. Ouch! I was winded and couldn’t speak and started to imagine a Christmas in hospital, ambulances, I must have damaged my windpipe; surely I must only have minutes to live? Some may call me a hypochondriac but I prefer to call it medically imaginative. Perhaps that’s what you get from watching too much Holby City?

 

As I lay there my daughter came to see if I was OK. All I could do was groan. She fled in a state of panic and through worried tears shouted to my husband to come quickly.  I then heard her shout at him to hurry up!  Before I caught any sight of him, his auntie rushed out into the darkness and the rain, checked I could move my neck and lifted me up and helped me inside.  I was only marginally annoyed at the request for BOTH doors to be opened so I could get through!  Charming! Like a compass going berserk my hips may have squabbled for opposite poles of East and West after having children, but really there was no need to point it out!

 

True to British tradition I was plied with hot sweet tea for shock and seated.  As I sat and drank my tea I noticed my husband’s  auntie had no shoes on and her feet were wet.   It was only then I wondered where my husband had been in all this commotion, as he appeared to be hovering in the background.  I questioned his noticeable absence from the scene of the accident, wondering what could possibly have kept him from coming to the aid of his wife who might have had a fatal accident.  I kid you not, I thought I was dying at one point.  At this my daughter piped up in fury, “He was putting his shoes on!!”  Great! I was lying there unable to move, frightened for my life, visions of horror flashing through my mind, but worst of all, worrying that I might have to endure a hospital Christmas dinner.  Meanwhile my husband was putting on his shoes while his family rushed to my assistance! Simply marvellous.  When I challenged him on this his response was, “I arrived on the scene, made a quick triage assessment through the window and decided it wasn’t fatal and so I had time to put my shoes on.” For real I tell you!

Man Tying Shoe Laces

So clearly in the event of an accident or emergency, always make sure you put on your shoes before assisting others! I await my next flight this summer to see if the pre-flight passenger safety briefing has adopted these new instructions.  In the meantime, if I decide to have any more accidents I most certainly shall not be calling for help from my husband…..unless he already has his shoes on!

Todds on Tour – Are we Nearly There Yet?

Where should I start? We have taken a rare two-week holiday in the South of France in peak season governed by the timings of the Olympics and my husbands work commitments around this. Normally our holiday would be timed to the cheapest deal I could get to anywhere British Airways fly.  I have an unreasonable apprehension of flying and do not fly any other airline for fear of dropping clean out of the sky.  Why I think BA are any different to any other airline I can’t quite fathom but perhaps I am just being a little bit British.  And besides, the colours and the logo are to my approval so it must be all right.  As usual the husband always had to be at the front of the queue, queue jump or feel he has some sort of priority.  Just as well we made use of the Gatwick privilege service and sailed through bag drop and security within minutes.  I was however a little alarmed at the request by security to check the contents of my make-up bag.  The chap disappeared behind a screen and I half expected him to return covered in my Liz Earl moisturiser and my Dior lip gloss!

Travel

On arrival at Nice airport we quickly began to realize the benefits of flying an airline other than BA.  Easyjet to be precise, whose flights all land in the same terminal as the car rental.  After taking a bus (yes I said bus) to the terminal in what can only be described as 400 degree heat with the great unwashed to where the car rentals were, my husband was amazed, and quite frankly openly annoyed, at the queue for our car rental.  That deal that seemed too good to be true on the Internet?  Seemed everyone else had seen it too and were stood in the exact same queue, but in front of us! Over an hour later we emerged into the heat with our VW Golf.  He hates Golfs!

I was given the task of being chief  map reader, co pilot, navigator, call it what you like, I was in charge of the Google directions. This was probably a mistake.  My idea of map reading is turning the map round in the direction we are going until I end up with it upside down and headed in the opposite direction.  Either that or spending too long looking out of the window at the scenery and forgetting where we are on the list of directions only to discover all too late that we had in fact just missed our turning!

…to be continued!