I've been working on my skin for the last few days. And yes, it is work, hardly a tough day down the mines but it has needed some thinking about and has paid off. As I've got older my pores have got visible, my skin seems less, um, difficult to describe without resorting to cosmetic lady words but is less luminescence if I may use the word.
So I've done a few different things; I've had some trials of DHC system lurking about for a while to decided to use them this weekend. Weirdly they consist of olive oil, to cleanse and moisturise, plus a toner and soap less soap. Actually a four part system which is a whole two parts more than I usually use. But it is really good. The olive oil moisturiser (am imagining it is more than neat oil) made my face all glowy after use. And the three part cleansing seemed to really made it shiny and clean (although shiny never good on faces it wore off).
Then I tried an India Knight trick, oh yes, she is my new hero, from her Frugal Book. Apparently asprin contains the same ingredient as some expensive face products. So she recommends crushing three with a little water, using as a face mask, keeping on for a few minutes, then exfoliating with removal. It was quite a grainy texture, but I guess what is the point for the removal. And smelt a bit strange. But it again, was good, made me a bit glowy.
Not sure its quite as good as usual clay mask, but will experiment again, and costs about three pence. Oh, and finally I found a cheapie Tesco own non-comogenic facial moisturiser which I'm trialing. Fingers crossed it is as good as expensive ones - it has one fault already though, the bottle is remarkably unstable and wobbles over. But if that is the only problem then I'll be delighted.
Monday, 9 February 2009
Sunday, 8 February 2009
64 Garden Avenue
I've been reminded of my grandma at every turn for the last month or so. She died over ten years ago now, about the time we first moved to London. She sadly never got to meet lovely M, although I did tell her about him, and she told me she was looking forward to it; as soon as she was a little better.
I absolutely and unconditionally loved my grandma, she was always there in my life' and that of others and was rumoured to make the best ever Yorkshire pudding. Most of the memories I have are wrapped up in her house; a 1930's semi on what was a very respectable quiet street in South London when purchased. Over the years it got a little rougher, particularly in the 1980's I think, with Grandma getting mugged twice near hospital. I imagine with the rise of South West London it'll be getting a little nicer again, as Tooting for one local town is on the up.
As a little girl I loved to go shopping with Grandma, it was never a simply pop to the local shop and buy milk trip. We'd meet so many of her friends and neighbours on every walk that it would take so long to walk a few feet along the path. And she liked to go in different shops for each purchase, I think I remember her cigarettes; Craven A being cheaper in the off licence so we'd go there. We'd also always go to the Old Dairy for milk and bread. I never tired of hearing of the story of how it was a proper dairy once, and how Uncle K as a young boy used to work with the milkman and his horse on his rounds.
Grandma's street itself was best in autumn as a country girl I'd never known anything like the feel of fallen crispy leaves on top of a hard pavement. The crunching, crisping and kicking feeling was one I'd almost look forward to every year. The street had been very white I guess, full of respectable older people when I was tiny. Then it began to change subtly and middle class Afro-Caribbean people moved in. Grandma's friends made different food, and had different drinks at Christmas time, but they were still all very similar.
Then I think towards the end of her time there, she began to know less people. More younger couples I guess moved in, less keen to be part of a fifty odd year old community. It didn't stop the regulars like the milkman popping in for a fag and a cup of tea; or the old friends up the road nipping out when they could and helping each other out.
Inside Grandma's house was where I played, met the family, ate her delicious food and loved to be. I used to adore the polished parquet flooring in the hall, made safer my a middle rug but still accessible for quick slides. I loved Grandma's bathroom with its blue bath and gold taps, and accoutrement's in the shape of fish. I loved the scary picture of a mans' squashed head in Uncle A's bedroom and I loved the sense of family and history that ran through it.
And I guess that is what it is all about; Grandma believed in history, family, fun and good times, oh and taking the Telegraph for the crossword. She'd have loved our children, and they her.
I absolutely and unconditionally loved my grandma, she was always there in my life' and that of others and was rumoured to make the best ever Yorkshire pudding. Most of the memories I have are wrapped up in her house; a 1930's semi on what was a very respectable quiet street in South London when purchased. Over the years it got a little rougher, particularly in the 1980's I think, with Grandma getting mugged twice near hospital. I imagine with the rise of South West London it'll be getting a little nicer again, as Tooting for one local town is on the up.
As a little girl I loved to go shopping with Grandma, it was never a simply pop to the local shop and buy milk trip. We'd meet so many of her friends and neighbours on every walk that it would take so long to walk a few feet along the path. And she liked to go in different shops for each purchase, I think I remember her cigarettes; Craven A being cheaper in the off licence so we'd go there. We'd also always go to the Old Dairy for milk and bread. I never tired of hearing of the story of how it was a proper dairy once, and how Uncle K as a young boy used to work with the milkman and his horse on his rounds.
Grandma's street itself was best in autumn as a country girl I'd never known anything like the feel of fallen crispy leaves on top of a hard pavement. The crunching, crisping and kicking feeling was one I'd almost look forward to every year. The street had been very white I guess, full of respectable older people when I was tiny. Then it began to change subtly and middle class Afro-Caribbean people moved in. Grandma's friends made different food, and had different drinks at Christmas time, but they were still all very similar.
Then I think towards the end of her time there, she began to know less people. More younger couples I guess moved in, less keen to be part of a fifty odd year old community. It didn't stop the regulars like the milkman popping in for a fag and a cup of tea; or the old friends up the road nipping out when they could and helping each other out.
Inside Grandma's house was where I played, met the family, ate her delicious food and loved to be. I used to adore the polished parquet flooring in the hall, made safer my a middle rug but still accessible for quick slides. I loved Grandma's bathroom with its blue bath and gold taps, and accoutrement's in the shape of fish. I loved the scary picture of a mans' squashed head in Uncle A's bedroom and I loved the sense of family and history that ran through it.
And I guess that is what it is all about; Grandma believed in history, family, fun and good times, oh and taking the Telegraph for the crossword. She'd have loved our children, and they her.
Saturday, 7 February 2009
The hazards of beauty
Yesterday morning I was filled with the joy of having an extra 15 minutes to get ready as I was driving rather than walking. So I decided to shave my legs, trouble is I was a bit too speedy and shaved a three inch long piece of skin off my ankle. It really bled, needs four plasters (albeit children's ones) to cover it, and it still hurts. Regret it now.
I tried to wear false eyelashes once too, cleverly put them on to see what they looked like. Then realised I looked a bit stupid but the glue in those days, might have improved now, doesn't allow you to change your mind and just wears off in time. And I of course tried them on just before going out. I remember managing to get one off, but then having to stay in as the other was just stuck on too hard.
This was around the time I suffered a small dry red patch on my face for some weeks. Eventually I succumbed to the worry of my doctor laughing at a consultation for a bit of dry skin and visited the surgery. Imagine my horror when I was told, it wasn't just a patch of dry skin, it was actually a mould. I had a mouldy face! And my mum told her friends (note to self however tempting don't spill beans on children's future embarrassing illness'). Luckily it was remedied healthy again with some sort of anti-fungus cream.
Anyone else care to share?
I tried to wear false eyelashes once too, cleverly put them on to see what they looked like. Then realised I looked a bit stupid but the glue in those days, might have improved now, doesn't allow you to change your mind and just wears off in time. And I of course tried them on just before going out. I remember managing to get one off, but then having to stay in as the other was just stuck on too hard.
This was around the time I suffered a small dry red patch on my face for some weeks. Eventually I succumbed to the worry of my doctor laughing at a consultation for a bit of dry skin and visited the surgery. Imagine my horror when I was told, it wasn't just a patch of dry skin, it was actually a mould. I had a mouldy face! And my mum told her friends (note to self however tempting don't spill beans on children's future embarrassing illness'). Luckily it was remedied healthy again with some sort of anti-fungus cream.
Anyone else care to share?
Friday, 6 February 2009
Gymnasts are lucky...
...when they do 'tumbling', which is lots of back flips and forward flips etc all in a row. I've spent part of the afternoon walking on their bouncy tumbling track, finally succoming to running up and down it with a friend. Apart from dodging small children it was fantastic. Sort of like running on springs, or maybe the moon.
Highly recommended as a Friday afternoon activity. And have no idea what the people not playing running thought of us, and even better only care slightly.
Highly recommended as a Friday afternoon activity. And have no idea what the people not playing running thought of us, and even better only care slightly.
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Mornings are difficult at the best of times but today..
I woke up to a total crisis in confidence. I've been stuck in the house, or very close to it for three days now. Leading me to get more and more bored.
This morning I felt like I was absolutely wasted at spending my days planning what to have for tea, organising social lives of small people, cleaning, shopping, and doing washing. I realised I was moaning as I got to the bottom of the hill, and had not said a positive word about being a stay at home mummy. Oh, except I really really do want to be there when the children go to and get out of school. It's such a lovely part of the day, and I think they really do need a parent there to discuss all their day time issues with; i.e. So and so got a yellow card in the playground, I met a policeman and so on.
But what about me? Then a chance comment by another parent really made me think. She asked in all seriousness what on earth I do all day. Again, I felt utterly useless, a bit like the comment last week from a working mother who told me she has no time for blogging because she has a life. Now of course I know I do loads and look after my family as best as I can.
I also know I couldn't cope with a high pressured full time job, and that the only time I have to work is between 9.30 and 11.30 four days a week, when J's in nursery. And if I worked in those two hours, I wouldn't be able to clear up from breakfast, wash up, clean, make beds, open curtains, do washing, shopping and so on. That is, unless I did it all after 7pm at night, which is what used to happen when I was working.
Course, rather than thinking all this through rationally, I came home from school/nursery run and watched Jeremy Kyle for the first time ever. And that made me feel even worse, as it was possible the most unproductive and counter productive use of my time ever.
However, crisis of confidence over now - course being always careful with money is a challenge, as is intellectual stimulation every now and again, I wouldn't, and I think the whole family wouldn't change our situation for anything in the world. (Course still don't like silly report that says children need mummies at home, and no divorces etc. etc.which was just one man's, and his gang's opinion really).
This morning I felt like I was absolutely wasted at spending my days planning what to have for tea, organising social lives of small people, cleaning, shopping, and doing washing. I realised I was moaning as I got to the bottom of the hill, and had not said a positive word about being a stay at home mummy. Oh, except I really really do want to be there when the children go to and get out of school. It's such a lovely part of the day, and I think they really do need a parent there to discuss all their day time issues with; i.e. So and so got a yellow card in the playground, I met a policeman and so on.
But what about me? Then a chance comment by another parent really made me think. She asked in all seriousness what on earth I do all day. Again, I felt utterly useless, a bit like the comment last week from a working mother who told me she has no time for blogging because she has a life. Now of course I know I do loads and look after my family as best as I can.
I also know I couldn't cope with a high pressured full time job, and that the only time I have to work is between 9.30 and 11.30 four days a week, when J's in nursery. And if I worked in those two hours, I wouldn't be able to clear up from breakfast, wash up, clean, make beds, open curtains, do washing, shopping and so on. That is, unless I did it all after 7pm at night, which is what used to happen when I was working.
Course, rather than thinking all this through rationally, I came home from school/nursery run and watched Jeremy Kyle for the first time ever. And that made me feel even worse, as it was possible the most unproductive and counter productive use of my time ever.
However, crisis of confidence over now - course being always careful with money is a challenge, as is intellectual stimulation every now and again, I wouldn't, and I think the whole family wouldn't change our situation for anything in the world. (Course still don't like silly report that says children need mummies at home, and no divorces etc. etc.which was just one man's, and his gang's opinion really).
People called Jeremy
I've just realised that Jeremy Vine and Jeremy Kyle are different people. Even though they are both sensationalist and I don't like them.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
My first ever crush
Staying at home activities....
Yesterday we...cleaned, re-arranged furniture in playroom and downstairs dining/play/bedroom, baked, played with the car track, dusted inside the dolls house and re-arranged their furniture, half made a cushion, did some washing, cooking, sent lots of texts, drank lots of coffee, went to play with some friends, went in the garden, played on popfun.co.uk, and finally watched some tv.
Amazing the amount of activities one can get in to an Ice Day. Still preferred Snow Day, and me and J are stuck inside today due to her getting mysterious sick bug. Which made its appearance at 6am in my bed of course.
Amazing the amount of activities one can get in to an Ice Day. Still preferred Snow Day, and me and J are stuck inside today due to her getting mysterious sick bug. Which made its appearance at 6am in my bed of course.
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
Ice Day
...is not as exciting as Snow Day, as some roads are passable, the snow is melting and it is just a bit cold.
Think will go to the supermarket instead of Ice Day activities.
Think will go to the supermarket instead of Ice Day activities.
Monday, 2 February 2009
Snow Day
A lovely snow day today! We've sledged the streets, albeit on a body board. Unfortunately I managed to snap the pulley bit off (just too fat) when it was my turn. Mended it enough to drag children around the local area. Brilliant fun!
Children have also made a big big snowman, with a carrot for a nose. Lovely M, was not so lovely, and smashed a Giant Snowball in my face. Apparently an accident as I was bending down (?). Still cross about that five hours later, but am planning to sneakily drink all the low carb beer we have, and leave him with Cheap Brandy. Feel a little mean though..so might let him have one.
We're wondering what will happen tomorrow, will it be an Ice Day - think that would be the first one ever. Slightly confused about how that would work but am a little anxious about getting down giant hill if it turns in to a wave of ice. I guess we could fashion some ice pick walking sticks out of um, stick and kitchen knives if necessary though.
Can't wait to see what an Ice Day is like - just hope its not too scary. Used to have an ice train when I worked in Bat and Ball (Sevenoaks) - as soon as it was chilly the train could not get up the slight incline to the station due to the ice. It was often snowy when I worked in Kent come to think of it. Weird local weather.
Children have also made a big big snowman, with a carrot for a nose. Lovely M, was not so lovely, and smashed a Giant Snowball in my face. Apparently an accident as I was bending down (?). Still cross about that five hours later, but am planning to sneakily drink all the low carb beer we have, and leave him with Cheap Brandy. Feel a little mean though..so might let him have one.
We're wondering what will happen tomorrow, will it be an Ice Day - think that would be the first one ever. Slightly confused about how that would work but am a little anxious about getting down giant hill if it turns in to a wave of ice. I guess we could fashion some ice pick walking sticks out of um, stick and kitchen knives if necessary though.
Can't wait to see what an Ice Day is like - just hope its not too scary. Used to have an ice train when I worked in Bat and Ball (Sevenoaks) - as soon as it was chilly the train could not get up the slight incline to the station due to the ice. It was often snowy when I worked in Kent come to think of it. Weird local weather.
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