Tongues, Buns, and Lovely Lochs


When did I suddenly start wearing old lady's shoes? Well in the last 3 weeks actually. On a shopping day with my friend Jill we searched through dozens of loafers until I found a pair for about £25. 'Result!' I thought, until a few days later I saw an eighty year old woman wearing exactly the same pair. Worse was to come as I need to wear innersoles to make them fit. 'What have you done to your feet?' Graham chortled as he pointed to my offending appendages. I had inadvertently slipped my delicate tootsie underneath the innersole so it was poking out the top of the loafer like a dirty brown tongue. Very attractive indeed.  

And my buttocks have not been spared the aging process as I became a parody of the elderly Patsy in Ab Fab when my 'No VPL' undies swiveled their way to my ankles after a tense walk home from dinner in Wells. I felt they were a little loose, not due to my svelte snake hips I might add, but more due to the slippery fabric and lack of elastic. The walk back to Dickie involved repeated hitchings-up of the aforementioned undergarment until I got sick of it and merely grabbed the front section and let my buttocks swing, unencumbered by fabric, down the back of my thighs. As I stepped into Dickie I finally gave up and the undies fell to the floor in a a Patsy-esque heap. Much chortling ensued as Hugo grabbed them and whizzed around the van with them hanging from his mouth.


All this on the start of our trip to Scotland. Merriment should be the order of the day if it continues like this. After stopping off in Lancaster to visit friends Kath and Dave, who managed to cook us a great Thai meal followed by dairy free crumble while building an extension to their house, we've made our way up to the shores of Loch Lomond. The sun is shining and Graham is desperately trying to get the satellite to work so I can watch the final of Bake Off. Fingers crossed we'll get to see some British buns tonight - not like the ones dangling freely under my frock I hasten to add.

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