Another sunset

Here's another sunset, taken from the window of our honeymoon cottage, on my late sister's farm. No digital cameras back then, so this was scanned into computer - hence the quality isn't brilliant, but hopefully you 'get the picture'! ;-))

Howling at the moon

I can't sing to save my life - but that doesn't stop me airing my tonsils when I feel like it. I celebrated my 50th birthday in real 'style', by fulfilling my dream of having a karaoke party; I don't suppose it was much fun for my guests, but I had a great time:-))
When this was snapped, I was singing along to either Bon Jovi's "Living on a prayer" or else Rod Stewart's "I don't wanna talk about it", but the highlight of the evening was when the entire room joined in with the Monkees' greatest hits!


Incidentally, I've recently discovered that a singing session sets me up really well for studying - my concentration is better, and I seem to take more in; hmmm, perhaps I've made a major scientific discovery?

My favourite footwear

This picture says a lot about me, and why I call myself what I do - believe it or not, I actually have even louder sox than these!

Sunset

I really like sunsets - this one was
taken from my bedroom window

Here is one of my favourite poems; I'm determined to grow old disgracefully, and have already made a start by dying my hair purple - as for the clothes, my wardrobe has been full of purple stuff since my teens.

Purple Clothes, by Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me,
And shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Trying out pix

This is hubby & I on the balcony of our Jersey holiday apartment last year.