My week (ish) in pictures…

It looks like we’re all going to be spending a lot of time at home over the next few weeks, so I’m glad I managed to do some interesting things whilst I could. I’m less pleased that I also did some really silly things.

I kicked off last week with a gas leak and the discovery that loads of my pipes needed to be replaced. That necessitated the gas bring turned off until the week was completed. The current weather is not ideal for cold showers, so it was shivery week. Tuesday adventures were exactly what I needed to perk me up. The addition of my bestie & niece made for even more rascalling. Two wee monkeys had a ball at soft play. The boy also obtained a new puzzle because auntie ly can’t help herself. Jigsaws are his new favourite thing and he is obsessed.

Toddlers on big blue slide

2yr old doing a jigsaw on the floor

Tuesday also saw me falling in love with the cutest jumpsuit that ever was. I originally spotted spotted this Asos beauty on a plus size legend’s insta. I loved it, but immediately thought, I can’t wear that. I couldn’t identify why I felt that way or what part of me I thought wasn’t good enough. Thus I decided to challenge the negative thought and order it anyway. I’m chuffed that I did. The minute I put it on I felt adorable. Once again proving that body positivity is an ongoing process. Every day is a body liberation school day.

Plus size woman in blue and white polka dot jumpsuit

Wednesday progressed with some cute nail art, a little project post it and a mid week movie. I was delighted to be seeing a grown up film; it’s been all cartoons of late. My sister and I had a giggle watching the largest bad boys offering. It gets a bit cheesy, but is still a lot of fun. If you loved the first two, you probably won’t regret giving this a watch.

Leopard print nail art

Cineworld Glasgow

Project post it

The tail end of the week was mostly taken up trying to secure a plumber to do my repairs & attempting to plough through my unread emails. In breaks from the tedium I made the mistake of giving Bronan some fishy cat soup. His fondness of this delicacy led to him weaving between my legs every time I entered kitchen. Ultimately, tripping me and really hurting my good knee.

Playful black and white cat

This is were I got foolish. I didn’t think a simple fall would cause any damage. So I kept on walking on the sore knee. I had cosy morning with the boy doing puzzles, reading stories & messing with insta filters. I also finally got all the work done on my pipes & enjoyed a steaming hot bath.

On Wednesday I was off to Edinburgh to be a guest on a podcast for the first time ever. I was both excited and scared to talk all things Bopo with the amazing Danni from The Chachi Power Project. We ended up having a really great natter, which will hopefully make an enjoyable episode. I stayed over as I was operating with two dodgy knees instead of my usual one. Of course I took advantage of the hotel stay to snap some pics of lounging ly.

By Thursday my knee had become an enormous puffy mess. I headed straight to the hospital when I got off the train. There I discovered how daft I had been to think I should just push through the pain. I had dislocated my knee in the fall. At some point it had worked itself halfway back into place. It had to be returned all the way to its correct position. I also did a little damage by walking on it, but it should heal if I rest & elevate. The X-Ray had another surprise for me, but I’ll fill you in on that later. For now, it’s feet up.

I hope you are all coping ok in the midst of the covid panic. I’m washing my hands 500 hundred times a day and doing my best to avoid unnecessary outings. Please take care of yourselves.

I’ll be your clown or your puppet or your April fool…

Last night I asked a women I thought was a waiter for our bill. From the confused look on her face I immediately realised she was not staff. In my embarrassment it occurred to me that my brain (& body) makes daft mistakes like this all the time. Also, ridiculous things just seem to happen to me. I have no idea why I am so bloody silly, but it certainly makes for some entertaining stories. Provided you give me a few years to recover from the humiliation that is.

For starters there was the time I was in hospital and one of junior surgeons who appeared on rounds was a guy I had dated. I didn’t recognise him right away. To be fair I was full of morphine and we’d only gone out for about 2 months 15years previously. Also, at that time he was a bus driver. Thus I didn’t expect to see him amongst my surgeons. Anyway, I was lying there, knickers exposed having my stomach felt when I thought a face in the crowd looked familiar. Skip to him returning to take blood and asking if I was ok with him being on my team. Then me slowly dying as he (re) introduced himself & it dawned on me that this man had seen me naked. Worse still that everyone clearly thought I was the kind of woman who slept with hot drs and then promptly forgot them. I mean, obviously I am precisely such as hussy, but I could have done without a barrow load of medical professionals being privy to that information.

ly h Kerr, hospital

Next was the time I turned up at work wearing odd shoes. They were the same shoe, but in different colours. I had done my standard fling clothes on & rush out the door morning routine. It was a dark winter morning & I didn’t notice I had on one red & one pale nude ballet pump. I didn’t notice all day long either. It wasn’t until I was on the bus home that my mismatching foot wear became apparent. What’s worse is when I asked my colleagues the next day how no one had noticed, it turned out they all had. They just assumed it was fashion choice I had purposely made & left me to it. Which probably sums up how I was viewed in that office fairly well.

There was the time I went on a date with a work mate without realising it was a date, which I suppose could happen to anyone. However, I suspect most folk wouldn’t have gone on the second date still oblivious that they were dating. Or the time I emitted the loudest, foulest fart seconds after concluding some of the hottest sex I’d ever had. Completely ruining my reputation as a sex kitten. I fell asleep during a lecture once and slept talked so loudly the professor thought I was asking a question. Oh & that time I burnt cookies in the Haagen Dazs kitchen, set off the fire alarm and caused an entire 12 screen to be evacuated.

Finally, my crowning glory of embarrassing moments. I was Christmas shopping in a fancy department store (if you’re local, it was Frasers). This place is an old building with a grand staircase which leads down into a beauty hall. They go all out at Xmas. Twinkly lights & decorations galore. This particular year they had a lush potted poinsettia at either side of each step. Step forward a sweaty & harassed me, carrying a million bags. I fainted at the top and rolled down the entire staircase. As I tumbled I knocked over every poinsettia one side, shedding items from bags & red petals as I went. I landed in a soil covered, tight laddering heap in front of the Chanel counter. My knees were grazed, but my pride took the real battering. The lovely staff wanted to fetch me a seat and maybe call an ambulance. I was so mortified that even if i’d broken both legs I’d have been out of there in flash.

House of Fraser Glasgow

There are of course a million other occasions of misspeaking & farting & generally falling around. Laughing uproariously at myself is definitely the only way to go. So, I offer these stories for your enjoyment. If i’m going to me be a clumsy mess I might as well entertain folk.

About a boy…

I’ve always been partial to a silver fox. It started  with a mega crush on my history teacher & never stopped. I have almost always dated older men. I almost always fancy older men. It comes as a great surprise to me discover that actually, I’m not entirely against a tryst with a younger men either. Which brings me to the advent of the toy boy & surprises therein. 

The first shock was testicles. Let me tell you that the balls of a 30yr old are very different to those of a 50yr old. Perhaps this is common knowledge. I was not aware. My eyes are now open. 

Sometimes a younger guy doesn’t get your cultural references at all. This makes you feel 90 years old. 

But on the flip slide you sometimes get a tiny bit smug & superior when they don’t know who Charles Manson is. 

Takes direction. Very well. 

A toy boy is slightly more willing to accept that I am always right. I like this. 

Peachy peachy bum. 

The youngster makes it past 11pm without becoming unconscious.

Takes charge equally well. Ego is comfortable with both. 

Silliness. There is a pleasing amount of nonsense. 

Oh, did I mention the arse?


Maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks. Who knew?