My Blog Bubble

My Granny used to always say we should paint on our mask. Put on our war paint and confront the day. Ok so I don't trowel on the make up but I always (well nearly always) have a smile on my face and a laugh in my chest.   Sometimes, though, it slips. My smile is lost and the laugh has flown the nest (chest as it were). It may slip for a short time or a more prolonged period however I know that one day it will be back. How I get it back I am never sure.  Maybe it will be something my little girl does that makes my heart melt, or spaghetti bolognese cooked by my boyfriend, a glass of wine with a friend, a cup of coffee, a natter with the mummies or some time with my pole sisters. Whatever wings bring my smile back they are always welcomed with open arms. Who knows how long it will stay. 

There isn't much to indicate that I am approaching my late thirties at an alarming rate: well apart from my date of birth; constant tiredness and the fact that a 25 year reunion of leaving Baring Primary School looms large.  In general people have the decency to act surprised when I tell them I am soon to be 37. Most people I say, apart from my boss, who recently asked when I had turned forty and when I said I was only 36 retorted that I looked much older. Nice! Anyhow age ain't nuthin' but a number and all that. And I wouldn't say that I am yet middle aged (unless I am planning on dying before the age of 75: I know the Government would like me to and will probably have me working until then but that is by the by).... Today I did a headstand and controlled dismount; I did a handstand; and stated a could do a cartwheel (which for the record I can but didn't fancy my chances of not knocking someone over).  I didn't quite manage a shoulder mount but I did do well (...