Hello my gentle peoples
How are you on another freezing cold winters day? Me, I’m not doing too well myself. I refuse to believe that Spring is just a hop, skip and jump away as I have not been able to adjust very well to the bitter cold that we have been having in the UK this time around. Even in the summer, unless temperatures are over 24 degrees, the thermals DO NOT come off. I’m even looking to find thermal knee cap pads, cause the cold is really playing havoc with my knees.
I can trek the arctic and I can do cold, but I’ve got to be padded, peeps, and even so I am getting tired of the padded YETI look now. I’ve been padded up for so many months and now feel that my breasts have disappeared into my ribcage. I look as if I’ve been flat-packed. Mind you, I am quite a small girl in the upper regions anyways.
But maybe my body is slowing down and old age is creeping its sly self upon me. Many people say I look around 25, which is a great compliment and thank you for that really (you haven’t seen the state of my teeth, well the ones that are mine, they’ll certainly tell my age). Yet the reality of age is that it is dictating its rather wicked self in the way my body handles life and one of those ways is that I feel I am loosing the war against how it handles the cold.
I must share this with you rather ashamedly but share I must anyway. I have almost cried because of how cold it has been and I don’t cry easily. (Once you give birth then the association with pain and crying is like eating candy) so you must know how cold I have been feeling. At times, I have been unable to SPEAK, and have ended up stuttering like a chimpanzee on weed after a night on red bull. Yes, I feel my coping mechanisms are shutting down.
I must admit, even when I was young and sprightly, to dress light in the winter and even summer was a no, no. This was because my parents were kind of fierce in the discipline arena. The few times I was allowed to venture out without the Gestapo (my father with mother in tow) which was not often believe me as my father was a rather stern religious man, and partying or going out was always associated with Satan and orgies. So there was very little chance of me walking the streets of London clad in nothing but a belt-skirt, pretty blouse, a pair of mind numbingly painful shoes and a smile on my face.
I couldn’t even do the skirting down the drainpipe thing to go out, as father dear would be standing at the bottom of that drainpipe like Papa Ninja with belt in hand and ‘Mama’ would be giving me the dirty eyeball look which could make a grown man shrivel up as if to die and I wasn’t going to mess with both of them on my own.
During the summer was worst. I dressed like someone from Little House on the Prairie and I dared not show any flesh or anything more than a smile and fingertips. So even in the sweltering heat my sisters and I could be found sitting on the wall in front of the house playing sit-down hopscotch (because we were not allowed to venture far from the house) wearing trousers and blouses that could cut off a man’s circulation. Yep we were strong girls believe me.
So at this moment in time, I feel the only option I have is to look to warmer shores overseas and relocate. I hear one needs a green card to get into the States. I hear there are other options if the green card proves to be a problem to get, such as to strap oneself under a plane or some other crazy dude idea to reach the land of freedom.
I could head for the Middle East – hmmm ….actually maybe not. The Caribbean sounds delightful and very exotic – but I’d be bored to tears on Barbados after a few months. After all one can get around the island in less than a day so what happens to the other 364 days of the year? St Lucia is gorgeous, stunning, but kinda quiet like ‘I can hear you breathing’ kind of quiet.
But whatever it takes, I will find some place warm and suitable for me where I can burn my thermal underwear, see the tips of my toes, realign and pump up my breasts again (the padding did a bit of damage here) and once again begin to enjoy living again.
I’m sure even in warmer climates there will be a new problems and dilemmas. Oh well – still want to see if the grass is greener oh the other side so adios for now. I’m off to sit on the heater again. I think I’ve got chilblains on my asp, is that possible?
Auntie E
A.K.A Esther Austin
