Bonjour les Vacances!

The countdown has begun.  Am off to join bezzie mate and her family in a villa in France (the Greens plus 1). Am anticipating my week away - a night/day near the old port in La Rochelle before heading inland to a converted barn on the  Deux Sevres/Vendee border.

Am devising a complex list of must haves - sunscreen, mozzie repellant, best swimmers, second best swimmers, sat nav, a couple of dieting must haves (to stave off whole hearted gutsory on local breads and cheeses), a couple of good books, plug adapters, etc etc.

Ready to go with the flow, although anticipating bezzie mate and I may slip off for the odd coffee and a break from teenagers (bless their cotton socks.) Also anticipating trips to the local markets and and a little bit of (healthy) foodie heaven....

Belt up...

I just went out and purchased my first belt in about 12 years. My newish jeans and trousers have started to slip southwards, (a welcome consequence of my new healthy regime). And I realised, while scouring through my wardrobe for something to hold them up, that actually, I have been wearing far too many elasticated waistlines for far too long.

Anyway, a happy and successful trip, and my jeans are now sitting where they ought. However it got me to thinking about a friend of mine who has been wearing his trousers low (very low) like all the youf. I call them his nappy pants. He is not amused.

I just want to walk up to these young blokes and give their jeans a brisk tug (up or down/on or off - either would probably embarrass them satisfactorily.) Have I mentioned before, how much like my mother I have become?

Vitamin D

I am a blonde with a natural pallor. Growing up in NZ (where there is a gigantic hole in the ozone layer, making our sunshine particularly fierce) I have always had the 'just cover up' message hammered into me. And looking at middle-aged Australian and Kiwi women with alligator complexions after years of sunbathing, well, it just seemed like the sensible thing to do.

However, last year I was shoved onto a variety of supplements by the doc after a somewhat unimpressive blood test.  Apparently my Vitamin D levels were through the floor, and she actually suggested that I start to get some sun.

So this summer (variable though it may be) I have taken to the odd half hour out on the sun lounger, baring unfamiliar bits of myself to those rays. I may not be going brown very quickly, but I think I am starting to feel the benefit - even if it is mostly psychological. In fact, I'm starting to resent the overlooking neighbours because I wouldn't mind getting a bit more adventurous in the swimwear department (or lack of it).

However, that isn't going to happen when 3 sets of neighbours have the ability, if not the inclination, to overlook my back garden. So will keep working on my mini tan and see how it develops - quite an adventure....

London Lite

I spent a day in central London yesterday.  Not something I do regularly but when I do, I generally like to have a mosey around. I was expecting the usual crowds, but was I mistaken. The Olympics seem to have sucked all the people out of London.

Pavements were clear and I had a pleasant walk through Temple, along the Strand and through Charing Cross and down to the Embankment. Yes, it got a bit busier around 5-6ish - about the time I retired to the American Bar at the Savoy. And yes, I got a seat - and at the Beauforte Bar, and at the Thames foyer. Good God, I'm tempted to try another visit - hang out at a couple of City bars and grab a table, walk into a restaurant and eat without a booking.  See how far my luck stretches.

I'm looking at the Olympics with new eyes now - maybe not such a bad thing after all for us Londoners....