Contracts and playgrounds

Yep so I have skipped two nights of blogging – £2 in the pot to UNICEF. Last night I was giggling like a schoolgirl with my friends at our local community viewing of Fifty Shades of Grey. I was like a menopausal woman, getting suddenly hot and needing a fan like a character in a Jane Austen novel. The old chap that sells the sweets in the intervals had to sit through the film and I was disturbed to see a guy on his own sat in the middle of an empty aisle…

There were women of all ages in the audience, including some Mums from our village. In the interval one if them remarked that little boobs are back in (I had benn quietly pleased to see this too). But as my friend put it, ‘If Christian Grey was on benefits he would be locked up’. We all were unanimous that we would sign the contract though….

The night before I was putting together the document summarising local Mums views on the new playground equipment for the village – an absolute must to help steer a parish council working party who have not heard of the concept ‘consulting with the public’. It’s at this level when politics seems to be more influential and where you can have the most input. Unlike central government which is a popularity contest for who can eat a bacon sandwich tastefully and keep big business happy – what a load of twaddle.

This blog is for UNICEF.

Thanks for reading. 

A break from Diet Coke breaks

If there is someone ‘up there’ (as in amongst the clouds….not, the, um, other type), I am convinced they are setting up some kind of temptation challenge this week.

Thankfully the cycle course has finished so I can stop trying to resist the temptation to be an out and out flirt with the hot instructor (although I will have to see him again when he comes to observe one of my sessions…… if I need more distraction).

My husband asks me to collect the guy working for him as he is out for the day and the guy doesnt drive. So, I show up and ask the guys from the neighbouring unit where he is. “He is log-splitting over there”. So I follow the track up to where they are pointing and as I turn to the woodshed the music starts up… know from the Diet Coke break. He is topless, check, toned, check, tanned, check, good-looking check and the cherry on top – swinging an axe in the Autumn sunshine.

I tried not to stare. But when he saw me I think I blushed, I also felt the desire to avert my gaze as I didnt trust myself not to stare for longer than was polite.

As he gathered his belongings and walked back to the car with the axe on his shoulder, I kept wondering whether it was me or the environment I suddenly find myself in where all these fit men have come out of the woodwork. But its not a good thing to happen because it reminds me of when I was 17 but Im not 17, Im more like Judi Dench in Ladies in Lavender.

This blog is for Unicef. Thanks for reading.