While there I did draft a couple of posts so this where I start catching up.
Saturday night, and I’m all dressed up and nowhere to
go. I’m spending the weekend in Cardiff
visiting Mum, but she is in hospital so I actually only get to see her for a
couple of hours over the whole weekend.
Mum’s had a couple of falls over
the last week or so and she is in hospital until she is OK to come home, and
hopefully they have worked out why she has had the falls. This afternoon she was very confused and,
although she seemed ok physically her mind was definitely not quite with the
rest of us. This evening she was much
better after a rest, but I still think that she will now need to have some
visiting support as an absolute minimum.
Given that Mum is now over 90 none of this is particularly
surprising but none the less a concern for my brothers and me.
Because Mum is not at home it does mean that all evening I
have the house to myself. I took the
opportunity to dress for dinner, my first thought was to go for a slightly
risky cocktail look. I suspect I actually
ended up with something rather trashy, or tarty, with a dress far too short and
heels a little high, along with, horror of horrors, fishnet tights. On balance this is not a look I plan to take
outside but none the less fun for an evening on my own. But there’s the rub, “on my own” somehow it
now feels silly and a little pointless glamming up and then just staying at
home on my own.
There was a time, and not so long ago at that, when I was
happy just to have a chance to try on a few female garments, now I get all
dressed up and morn the fact that I am on my own and not showing off to
others. Am I some sort of exhibitionist
or this just a natural inclination to society and a normal desire to “strut my
stuff” Whatever it is I am sitting here
after a half decent dinner with a very acceptable Pinot Grigio dressed up to
the nines but feeling slightly, yes only slightly sad about being on my own.
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