Category Archives: Siblings

Magnetic Attraction

There are occasions when life as the Lifestyle Support Guru can be very difficult, but it is my job to give you, Beloved Believers, a glimpse from time to time of how simple and straightforward life for you as an ordinary person can be – you will never know the trials faced by the LSG as I try to lead a ‘normal’ life. As an ‘ordinary’ being, you will not have to face situations such as I endured at the bus stop today. Let me set the scene:

Wishing to experience the same ‘ordinariness’ as others, so that I may better advise you on how to live your life more fully, I made my way to the bus stop (with the intention of going into town to spend some of my hard-earned pension), where someone was already waiting: a gentleman of ‘a certain age’, as the French so delicately put it – in other words, he was old! After politely nodding to him, I studied the bus timetable for the sake of something to do whilst waiting for the bus, even though I had a book in my hand – but I always feel there’s something a little…pretentious about standing at a bus stop reading. One should always stand at a bus stop gazing hopefully, even wistfully, in the direction from which the bus will appear, but with a certain amount of resignation written on one’s face as well, especially at this particular bus stop. ‘Why resignation?’ I hear you ask (I hear you clearly because I have very good hearing, unlike three out of my four siblings, who are descending rapidly into senility towards the likelihood of using an ear trumpet). The resignation is because, although every bus that picks up at this stop goes directly into town, not every bus heading for town picks up at this stop. Are you following this? I have stood at this very bus stop and watched six – yes, SIX! – buses sail past while I wait in the cold and wind that constitute a British summer – two school buses, one Park and Ride, the ‘Express’ from Belper, the ‘Comet’ from Chesterfield and a random National Express coach heading from Bradford to Aberdare – not a route that gets booked up quickly, I should imagine.
But I digress. Whilst lost in a reverie of admiration for the complexities of not one, but TWO bus timetables (because of competing bus companies), I became aware that the gentleman with whom I was sharing the bus shelter was speaking to me. This is not uncommon, of course – the LSG attracts attention from all! Unfortunately, he was speaking in a VERY broad Scottish accent (apologies to my Scottish friends!) and I could only understand every other word. Unfortunately, again, every other word seemed to be the same one – ‘f***’ (or variations thereof). As I attuned myself to his speech (I pride myself on my linguistic ability – I can understand many dialects, from Geordie to Brummie via Scouse and North Waleian, which is VERY difficult), I realised he was talking about the cold weather and his recent visit to Scotland for his mother’s funeral where he hadn’t been able to get a taxi to the funeral because of the snow. I didn’t ask why he hadn’t hired a funeral car – I felt this might lead to a long explanation and even the LSG doesn’t possess infinite patience. You will be pleased to know, however, that he DID get to the funeral – by bus! Scottish buses run in all weathers, apparently, unlike those in England, which stop at the first sign of a snowflake, or so the Scottish gentleman told me. Luckily, our own bus arrived at this point, so I was spared further details (and expletives). I was a little worried that he might sit next to me and continue his tale, but he sat next to someone else and proceeded to tell them exactly the same story!
Since this adventure, however, I have discovered that, occasionally, the LSG can remain incognito – nobody in the pub this evening seems to have noticed that I am wearing a jumper with baked bean stains from this afternoon’s lunch! (I hadn’t noticed until now either!) 😊
Sleep well!

Losing weight

Hello, hello, hello! I realise that it has been quite some time since I offered any advice, but life has been its usual hectic, never-ending round of parties and trips abroad.
Actually, when I say ‘parties’, I really mean saying ‘hello’ to one or two people in the local and a Christmas meal with the charity committee from the local.

And when I say ‘abroad’, I really mean York, where I spent Christmas with the unmarried siblings. We had a jolly time, even bumping into the Tiny Tyke (TT) unexpectedly when he bounded up to us like an overexcited puppy in the first pub we visited! And he didn’t spill a drop of his drink as he bounded up to us, which rather impressed us!

Anyway, I digress, since this is about losing weight – but fear not! I have not succumbed to offering advice about the dreaded post-Christmas/New Year diet – no point, because you’ll only have to do it all again next year. No, this is about a medical ‘procedure’, as operations are now called. But fear not! I have not had a gastric band fitted or gone for liposuction (that could create a fatberg all of its own!). This was a ‘female’ procedure, so the boys may want to look away now. But fear not! I shall not be going into the details of the ‘procedure’ – no, no, no! The LSG has far more discretion.


All you need to know is that this required the removal of ‘bits’ which were considered ‘at risk’, although not at any life-threatening level, and I was only in for a day, although it seemed longer, since I had to be at the hospital at 7.30 in the morning, which, for the past seven years, I hadn’t realised existed any more. In addition, I was put last on the list (they obviously didn’t know who I am), which meant that, by the time they eventually got to me, I had answered questions such as ‘Are you wearing any make-up?’ (obvious answer – NO!) and ‘Do you have any body piercings?’ (also NO!), as well as ‘Do you still live at …?’ (answer – I haven’t had the chance to move house in the last eight hours) several times, even within two minutes of each other. I realise the NHS has to be careful, but there are limits…

I survived, despite the surgeon passing me a consent form for the ‘procedure’ and asking me to ‘sign my life away’ – not quite what one wishes to hear from the person who has your life in their hands. She smiled in a rather evil way, I thought, when I said, ‘I hope not!’ – jealousy of the LSG, I believe.

Large glass red wine

When I came round, I felt as if I had drunk several bottles of a strong red wine (Shiraz, perhaps?) without the benefit of going through the enjoyable phase! Youngest sibling came to collect me in the evening – not because he had a deep desire to travel from Hull to spend a Friday evening with the LSG (although many would!), but because next-youngest sibling had to go to a play rehearsal in the evening and it is recommended that you are not left on your own for 24 hours after a ‘procedure’ and Molly-the-all-black-cat was not considered a suitable companion. However, she ended up being my carer anyway, since I sent the two siblings off to the pub. There are limits to how long one can bear looking at the faces of two men who wish they were anywhere rather than sitting watching a woman who’s just had ‘bits’ removed and who don’t want ANY of the details!
I am recovering well – provided I wear elasticated trousers and ‘big’ knickers and don’t cough, sneeze or laugh.

And the weight loss? How much do ovaries weigh?

A Day in the Life…

Good evening, Beloved Believers! Here I am, once again, to brighten up your dreary, mundane lives with tales of my exciting, fun-filled life.
Today was an exceptionally full day.

Movies

Call Me By Your Name

First, I was invited by Bazza the Friendly Geordie (the BFG) to accompany her to a foreign film and, knowing that these foreign films can be strange, I decided I would look for some reviews for it just so that I would be prepared.
Well, Devoted Devotees, the reviews did not disappoint, and I looked forward to seeing a film

which featured ‘sensual boiled eggs’ and which promised that I would never look at a peach in the same way again. The film was ‘Call Me By Your Name’ and was set in Italy in 1983, with accompanying 80s soundtrack, although I have to say I only recognised ‘Words’ by FR David.

It is the story of a burgeoning (good word, and one I chose myself!) romance between a 17-year-old boy, Elio, and his father’s research assistant, Oliver, an older man, one summer in Lombardy. Personally, I thought Oliver was a bit smarmy, although the reviews called him ‘a golden Adonis’; I would have called him a narcissistic show-off who thought he was god’s gift, but that’s only one opinion, even if it is that of the LSG. We were warned of ‘strong sex’ at the start of the film, which made me wonder if one could warn of ‘weak sex’, and just what that might involve, but I digress…

sensual boiled egg

I looked out for the ‘sensual boiled egg’, described by the Telegraph as ‘an unexpected gush of golden yolk which brought confused emotion to Elio’s face’; personally, I didn’t spot the confused emotion – I just thought that Oliver was a messy eater as far as soft-boiled eggs were concerned.

So, all rested on the peach, so to speak – small shivers of anticipation ran through me every time there was a shot of a peach tree, as I waited to see how my view of a peach could be changed for ever. At last the moment arrived – suffice to say that I may never be able to eat a peach again without certain images coming into my mind. I do not wish to offend your sensibilities by describing exactly what happened with said peach, but it involved the stone being dug out of the middle of it by Elio and the peach then being used by him… and I shall leave it at that. A lot messier than the egg yolk, believe me!

The scenery was beautiful and at times I thought I was, in fact, watching ‘A Place in the Sun’, although they didn’t produce a ‘mystery house’ as the final choice – unnecessary, anyway, as the peach was enough of a mystery!
The BFG enjoyed it, as did I – if I don’t fall asleep, that means it’s a good film.

This was then followed by some ironing (at home, not in the cinema) – ‘How is that exciting?’ I hear you cry. It was exciting because, when I handed DODO his freshly-laundered clothes, he went upstairs to put them away, then rushed back downstairs and said, smiling, ‘I thought I’d left this in Turkey!’, referring to a particular polo shirt which had been waiting to be ironed for ever such a long time… (he returned from Turkey in June…)

And finally today, we went to Derby Night Market where, firstly, DODO was amazed that the LSG managed to walk away from the leather handbag stall without buying anything (the handbags were leather, not the stall, and I already have two purchased from there on previous occasions, which DODO may not have realised…); DODO went off to take some photogenic photos of the cathedral while the LSG went for some refreshment (shopping is exhausting). Interesting to have a glass of wine in a place where one is used to having toast and coffee…

What a lovely day, full of a variety of events, friends (well, one – the BFG), food, drink, eggs, peaches…
Sleep well, Adoring Acolytes