Marvellous!

Just how depressing is all this talk about the credit crunch? Banks going bust, people losing their jobs and their homes, what we need is a little pick me up and I think we all need a nice dollop of ..........................




Now dont you feel better just thinking about it? The texture of crushed nuts and butter just sticking to the roof of your mouth, combined with some white suidgy bread and some chopped banana. I'll bet you're all drooling now aren't you, and running to the cupboard in the hope of finding an elusive jar buried at the back behind the strawberry jam with the missing lid and the chocolate spread you bought for your kids ... only they haven't had a look in on the stuff yet!

Ahhhh yes, extra crunchy. Extra bits to get stuck between your teeth. Extra protein! Think positive, think peanut butter people!







Admit it, you're smiling again!

Diet is a four letter word

When people say they have been on a diet all their life, just how honest are they being? How many can honestly say they have been dieting since they were just a child?

I was always the active one … and the “cuddly” one, the one with extra lagging which is meant to keep me warm apparently. Clearly I have inferior lagging because mine doesn’t give me any extra insulation. My big (older & much skinnier) sister was always the slim one, but I was picked on for my size.

Aged 10/11 I was marched to the doctors one day with a face swollen like a football and a very severe chest infection. My then doctor to one look at me, had me marching up and down on a step, announced me to be overweight (ooh there was a surprise, the little t****r!) He then prescribed something to help take the swelling down on my face, which clearly looking back was an allergic reaction to something, although he had little or no interest in finding our what (I didn’t bother going back to see him when it happened the next time), and … get this … remembering my age … he gave me appetite suppressants. Also known as SPEED! Oh yes, not yet a teenager and I was being prescribed drugs by my own GP.

The humiliation didn’t end there either, oh no. Because my parents paid for me to have school meals, the canteen were instructed to only let me have salad and an apple, and not to be able to choose from all the other lovely stuff that I saw the other kids being able to tuck into. At home, my mother would buy me Weight Watchers type meals (we are talking very early 1970s here) and they were terrible. I remember being told to eat everything on my plate or go hungry; well if they want to eat the disgusting paella that was put before me; I hope they choke on it instead of me.

The years went by and although I occasionally made the mad foray into the world of “dieting” and slimming clubs, and listened to countless patronising comments from family and so called friends (friends who thought it ok to bulk buy packets of biscuits with which to feed their own fat husband!) I never became much smaller and became resigned to being fat.

So how has this part of my past affected me today? I still have insecurities about myself from time to time, but on the whole I am way on top of them and the nasty small minded little people who see fit to criticise me for looking as I do. How do I look? Pretty damn good for a size 22! I like me. I may not be the media’s ideal shape but tough! The media is headed up by men who like to look at skinny models, but when it comes to going home and getting cuddled up like something to grab hold of … I wonder, do they keep the lights on or off? (I did say these are my insightful musings did I not?)

I may not look like Kate Moss or Linda Evangelista, but I’ll bet I enjoy my food a hell of a lot more than they do, and man, can I cook! A plate of lettuce leaves wont see anyone through a cold winters night, but my home made meatballs will ;~)

Musings from a natural born Goddess

Here commences the first instalment of the life, times, rises and falls of a natural born Goddess.

In here is my life laid bare; from its humble beginnings to its humble present (and lots of humble pie in between). I look at others and think their lives seem so much more exciting than mine, but I have a life long held ambition and at 40(something) I am well on my way to fulfilling. That is to be one of life’s last great geriatric eccentric spinsters. When lying on my death bed I want to be able to look down on myself and know that I was adventurous, independent, free spirited, cheeky, charming, warm, loving, affectionate, assertive, desired, envied, and just a little bit naughty but without hurting anyone else … unlike some (you know who you are but I have too much class to name names).

I find if hard to believe that complete strangers are actually going to be reading about me. Have you got nothing better to do? Is there nothing interesting on the 99 channels on the TV? Am I really so interesting? I am? Aw you are sweet. In that case dear reader I will get busy thinking of things to tell you to keep you amused. Its early October which means long dark nights lay ahead, and I suppose we all need an alternative to *blushes* well you know, to keep ourselves amused. Hence, here is my invitation to you: next time you come here, please come prepared with hot chocolate, Hobnobs or Crunch Creams, wear your jimjams and some bed socks and curl up in front of a roaring fire (if you don’t have one, either use your imagination or download one on line!) and enjoy the ramblings of an eccentric goddess in all her glory.