Ah the summer sun...............

We are fortunate to live very near the sea and perhaps even more fortunate in that we have a large common also by the sea. So what could be nicer on a warm, sunny, Sunday afternoon than to drag the sleeping dog from his cool patch on the floor, out for a nice hot walk.

Our dog loves the common, he is a pig ( well not a pig obviously,) but a terrible scavenger and on a warm day with wall to wall people he is assured of finding juicy titbits, bread, burgers, chicken bones, icecream and many other unsuitable items which he hoovers up with gay abandon. So we set off and sure enough most of the common and all of the seafront were covered in people taking advantage of the warm weather.

Large groups of people were barbecuing and sunbathing, people playing ball and frisbees with their children, boys playing football and generally everyone enjoying the weather and having fun. Idyllic, you might think................not so.

The litter was appalling, despite huge bins everywhere, huge mobs of young men and not so young men throwing lager down their necks and onto the grass, broken glass everywhere, vile language, people shrieking, the whole effect was squalid and depressing. There are signs pointing out alcohol free zones but not much evidence of anyone taking any notice.

What sort of society are we when some of us appear to enjoy destroying a local beauty spot with our disgusting rubbish? How difficult is it to get up, gather it all up and stick it in the bins provided?

Of course the majority do clear up after themselves but sadly there will always be the few
ignorant slobs who really couldn't care less. Apparently, there is a trial scheme in Hartlepool underway where they have operators watching CCTV and as soon as the operator sees a litter lout he can bellow at them to pick it up and bin it............Hartlepools' litter problem has nearly been eradicated! How I'd love to have a job like that!!

By the way, the dog ate a piece of burger and a few sweets so he was quite happy!

Socks, well manly socks in particular.

It may seem, at least to anyone reading my blogs, hah all two of them so far, that I have a fetish for writing about clothes! Not so, as my children would probably tell you ( and I know they would) apart from jumpers, zany preferably, I am really not that interested.

I do have a thing about mens' socks though....not a fetish I can quickly assure you,
more of an intense irritation.

In our house my husband favours thick black cotton socks preferably with the Nike tick, or Pringles logo and I do not have any problem with this, why would I? As far as I am concerned socks are socks, not radical just something you shove on your feet to make your shoes comfortable and your feet nice and warm.

So tell me this. Why do sock manufacturers insist their black socks leave nasty deposits of black fluff wherever the wearers of said socks walk? It does not seem to make any difference how often you wash the damn things, how often you tumble dry them, still loads of black fluff everywhere.

Scenario. You have done a mega tidy up, dog hair vacuumed, dust gone, bathroom spotless, all carpets clean, infact the house is glistening, then, the following morning you get up and on the way down to make the early morning tea you notice sock fluff on the stairs,in the shower, all over the laminate floor and.............well, just everywhere.

Am writing to complain to Nike and Pringles as I speak aaaaahhhhh!

Beige Woman

At what age I wonder do you suddenly lose all your dress sense? Do you wake up one morning and think 'I must rush off to M and S and buy myself some beige clothes?' And, before you know where you are you are emptying out bags on your bed at home and squealing with delight over your new beige blouse, cardigan, trousers and skirt and nearly swooning when the whole ensemble is finished off with your new beige shoes...................how and why does this happen? Worse still, you actually think you look amazing!
Then there are men. This strange phenomena doesn't happen to them, it manifests itself in quite a different way but only if they are married or have been living with a partner for many years. Men forget how to choose and subsequently pay for their own clothes..............their wives or partners do it for them. Here is the scenario.

'Honestly John, those trousers you are wearing are appalling and it's high time you had new ones!'
John in blissful ignorance carries on reading his paper.

'We are going straight up to M and S to get you some smart clothes.' (Note, we have moved from trousers to clothes now.)

Before John knows what has happened he is in M and S and being kitted out in grey trousers, a grey shirt, dark grey tie and a grey pullover and his wife has her eye on a smart grey jacket with a nice grey hat! She decides to do without the nice grey, lightweight mackintosh as there's no rain forecast for the immediate future.............back home and still reeling from the size of the bill, John stares at the grey apparition in the mirror and seems lost in thought.In his younger days he would never have chosen anything in grey!

Look in any high street, shopping malls, parks, front gardens and you will notice adults of a certain age colour co-ordinated from head to toe.

The worry is it's already started with me and I truly do not know how. I walked to work and suddenly realised I was wearing a beige hat, a beige fleece and had some beige gloves.............I was horrified but relieved I had at least noticed in time. Am hitting the shops tomorrow and am praying I don't return with anything other than mismatched, bright, colourful clothing that nobody else would be seen dead in!