Valentine's

Have you ever walked into a shop, spotted someone you'd rather not bump into and slipped straight back out again? Well it happened to me yesterday lunch-time. There I was pottering about the shops, enjoying the glorious Winter sunshine when I remembered Dad's birthday. Where ever he is in the world he never forgets mine or my daughter's birthday and quite rightly he gets the hump if we forget his. So I made my way to the nearest card shop, averting my eyes from the garish display of hearts and teddies in the window, when who should I nearly bump into but She-of-the Acid-Tongue. In other words my Ex. She was browsing the Valentine's display, quite clearly shopping for her special someone. I pity the poor fella who has to share intimate relations with that woman. We were together for twenty years and each Valentine's was worse than the one before. Every year she would become more demanding and each time I would fail to meet her expectation. It started with a simple card, then she wanted chocolates, then the following year she didn't want chocolates because she was slimming so she wanted flowers, then she wanted shoes, then sexy undies - although quite where she wore them I'll never know as she always sported thermals with me. Until finally she asked for diamonds, I bought her a diamonique bracelet second hand from the car boot and she went ballistic. Soon after we split up. As thoughts of a toxic nature trailed through my mind I took a detour back to work and happened across a lovely little gift shop. It was then I remembered Dad and his birthday, quickly forgetting about the Queen of Black Hearts and her wicked ways.

Snow Go

Why oh why is everyone lamenting about a lack of snow in Preston? No you can't make a snowman from cold, driving rain but I would rather it rain than be caught slipping towards a duel carriageway due to slush and black ice underfoot. When I sound off about the perils of snow people often ask me if I didn't go sledging as a child or make a snow angel. Well no I didn't. The closest I came to sledging was slipping out of the corner shop door one wintery Saturday. The entrance was on a tarmac incline and as I slid down I reached back for the door way to steady myself and got my fingers trapped in the closing hinge bit. Thankfully the kindly newsagent came to my rescue but the combination of cold, ice underfoot and badly bruised fingers has haunted me ever since. And for that reason I shall be staying inside all weekend, with a pot of mint tea and out of date flapjack. See you when the sun comes out!