The World According to Izzie

A lifestyle blog from a forty-something mum

Friday, 4 November 2016

A Lady of Leisure

Keep calm and chillFollowing a minor surgical procedure on my leg last week, I pondered what life as a 'temporary' lady of leisure might be like.

In my imagination, I envisaged poring over a magazine, curling up on the sofa with the cat to watch films and maybe taking an afternoon nap while the rest of the family pandered to my every whim.

Lady of leisure, relaxing on the sofa

Naturally, that wasn't how things turned out.

An hour after returning from hospital, I was already bored from sitting on the sofa and took myself for a gentle stroll around the neighbourhood while still under the influence of a sedative. Several of the neighbours probably suspected I'd taken to daytime drinking as I slurred my words and stumbled a couple of times, my leg still numb from the local anaesthetic.

The following day I was home alone. Sadly, the local anaesthetic and sedative had worn off. I was sore, but bored. I took myself on another walk, wrote Christmas cards and removed the cat from her favoured position on top the mound of paperwork I'd decided to sift through while watching a movie so bad, I'd normally have switched off after five minutes. I also tackled the laundry and cooked dinner to relieve the monotony.

On Friday, we had a new boiler installed. I made endless cups of tea for workmen, limped all over the house and barely sat down all day. By the evening I was ratty, desperate to leave the house and the bruising on my leg was fifty shades of purple and black.

At the weekend, I was in desperate to resume 'normal life' despite the umpteen walks, visits from friends, being preoccupied with the boiler fitting and countless inane household tasks that didn't require standing or sitting with my knee bent for prolonged periods. I contemplated escaping in the car. Only it hadn't been spotted since the op as the girls knew I couldn't drive and had 'borrowed' it (again).

By Monday, I'd decided that I needed help with the chores piling up at home. Mr A helpfully offered to clean the kitchen. Good, I thought and promptly disappeared to let him get on with it.

Two hours later he was still engrossed.

Curious to know why cleaning the kitchen was taking so long, I popped my head around the door.

'Nearly finished?' I asked. Before spying what he was up to.

'What the heck are you doing?' I snarled, without allowing him time to answer the previous question.

'Just rearranging some stuff in the cupboards,' he replied.

He was. All the crockery was now helpfully placed in the glass cupboard. He had removed several shelves from another cupboard and placed all the glassware where the crockery once lived. 

'Grrr,' I said. 'Put it back.'

'Why? It looks better like this,' he added  

'No it doesn't. If you don't put it back, I'll just get the stepladder out tomorrow and do it myself.'

'But you're not allowed to do anything like that after your op,' he added.

'Exactly,' I said.

Mr A spent the next hour returning the kitchen to its original state in silence.

I poured a large G&T before turning to leave. Reminding myself that it was for medicinal purposes and my family had driven me to it.

The following day I cleaned the entire house and concluded that being a lady of leisure wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Copyright ©2016 Izzie Anderton






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Friday, 28 October 2016

Lost in Translation



Lost in translation, English, AmericanSophia spent the summer working as a Camp Counsellor for Camp America in Oregon. As she had returned for a second season, her role had expanded and she found herself busier than ever.

Having studied Illustration at university she was frequently asked to help out with art-based activities at camp. Something she was only too happy to do.

She had designed a mini project for the campers to work on which involved creating their own imaginary animals.

The campers varied in their artistic abilities and when a few weren't happy with their works of art, Sophia helpfully added,

'That's OK. You can use a rubber if you want to make any changes.'

Eraser, rubber


The campers continued to work on their almost finished pieces apparently oblivious to my daughter's comment.

Sophia however, wondered why she was getting some strange looks from the rest of the staff.

At the end of the session, the campers left to turn in for the night and one of the camp leaders helped to tidy away while chatting to Sophia.

'By the way, you do know what a rubber is don't you?'

'Yes,' said Sophia, helpfully pointing to the small pile at the centre of the table.

'Actually, we call those erasers over in the States,' said the camp leader.

'Rubbers, are something entirely different...'

Condom, rubber

 
Copyright ©2016 Izzie Anderton


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Friday, 30 September 2016

Lately...


Always be good to yourselfHello, my name is Izzie and it's been a couple of months since my last blog post.

I have no idea why writing has become more of a chore than a pleasure lately. Maybe it's my hormones, the weather, or generally feeling a bit 'meh' about writing.

Maybe I needed to take a break and write nothing at all.

Which is exactly what I've been doing all summer.

My daughters are all grown up and taking first steps into the world of adulthood and work. I suspect that they won't live anywhere near the place they called home. Their mum is fine with this. It's proof that they are heading off on their own adventures and that is exactly how it should be. 

What next for the blog and its author though?

Who knows?

Maybe it's time to shake things up a little and see where life takes me?

Watch this space.

Copyright ©2016 Izzie Anderton
 






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Friday, 29 July 2016

To Be Continued by James Robertson - Book Review

To Be Continued by James RobertsonThe latest release from James Robertson is a heart-warming, yet slightly surreal tale about the adventures of Douglas Findhorn Elder. A journalist who, as he celebrates his 50th birthday realises that his life is in a sorry state. Recently separated from his girlfriend, he's also lost his job at a local newspaper and his father admitted to a nursing home.

Enter Mungo Forth Mungo, a talking toad who introduces himself as Douglas celebrates his 50th birthday alone by getting drunk and sitting out on the back porch.

Without work to keep him preoccupied, Douglas embarks on writing a novel about nothing in particular and secures some freelance work from his former editor at the newspaper. His mission is to interview former MP, Rosalind Munlochy, as she celebrates her 100th birthday and to find out how she voted in the Scottish referendum.

In this novel Man and toad forge an unlikely friendship and embark on a journey together from Edinburgh to Glentarager House in the Scottish Highlands. The journey is beset with challenges and along the way he meets an assortment of eccentric characters who aren't all they seem. 


Toad at night


Douglas could be anyone who's experiencing a midlife crisis, but attempting to remain philosophical in the face of adversity. I loved the hints of eccentricity and wry humour throughout the book. 

I suspect that we could all do with a talking toad, or something similar (and preferably cuter) in our lives. Mungo Forth Mungo is a modern day fairy godmother with warts on, (pun intended). He's also infinitely wiser and opinionated with his own unique and horribly accurate take on the world around him.  

The ending is well-rounded, rather sublime and plays to the theory that life can change for the better often when you least expect it - just as long as you're open to ideas and willing to take a chance.

Not my usual kind of read, but thoroughly enjoyable nonetheless.

Rating 4/5

Thanks to Penguin Books for the advance copy.
Release date: 4th August 2016.

To Be Continued by James Robertson


Copyright ©2016 Izzie Anderton
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