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CFM Babs from Chorley FM



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Toffee!

Posted by CFMBabs , 01 October 2008 · 707 views

The clock strikes 11. So far today I've manged to make gooey treacle toffee, Y'know the failed attempt that never sets, create a mound of washing up and leave work surfaces strewn in a sticky mess.

I don't know why I did it. You see I have this stupid desire to make perfect treacle toffee. I've made all manner of concoctions in my time, adding an array of ingredients each time different to the last but I never seem to get the mix right! My gran used to make the most perfect toffee, every time a success. My attempt usually ends up in the bin or a chewing contest between my hubby and daughter which then usually ends in a dentist appointment and new fillings.

The dog was quiet for hours when it once sneakily took a particularly chewy one from the bin. It couldn't bark, snarl or get rid of the goo as it scraped its mouth in the grass. By all accounts it was probably one of the funniest things I've ever witnessed, almost cartoon motion in fact. It taught her a lesson though -- never to root in bins!

As my latest attempt is scraped into the bin, I've decided never to make treacle toffee again. I'll stick to cakes; at least they seem to go down much better!


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Wet More Than Once

Posted by CFMBabs , 30 September 2008 · 677 views

I wish I could be one of those persons who profess to enjoy rain pattering down and running in blobs down the window. I wish I could share the same energy when Gene Kelley danced so irritatingly perfect in Singing In The Rain! Since I can do neither, I may as well admit that I hate it with a vengeance and I wish it would stop!

I'm uncomfortably damp all over, getting a soaking each time I stick my head out of the door. I have to go out for fuel for the fire but the rain keeps me a prisoner in my own home. I've tried juggling an umbrella, a shovel and a bucket of coal, only to be drenched when I couldn't hold the brolly upright over my head, multi-tasking you see! And I thought only men couldn't do that?

The wind is howling. It's a nasty day, not even fit to turn the dog out -- now that's a saying! I've had three bath times, one in the bath and two fully clothed in town. Will it ever stop? We had one week of glorious Autumn sunshine and so far that's been our lot. I doubt if we'll be lucky enough to have a repeat of this very rare occasion where you can actually go outdoors and gaze at a blue sky without the need for precaution. It doesn't help the circulation and I have more cause than most to complain -- I think.

Time for winter clothes. The summer ones will have to wait until next year when the only place they'll be suitable will be on some far off island, namely Crete.


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Fame At Last!

Posted by CFMBabs , 29 September 2008 · 667 views

Fame at last! Well actually just a little bit. As you may already know, I work voluntarily for our local radio station, promoting cooking at home. The station contacted me and asked for some help in organising a fundraiser in which they want me to make some cakes promoting the station.

As the result of me saying yes, I have my name almost in lights. It's all too much to take since I've also given an interview for Science Magazine as well and one of my silly poems will also be featured in the ISN Newsletter! I'll be on David Letterman Show next! (Please don't put my name forward.)

It seems I can't keep my huge mouth shut! I should be taking it easy, plodding along with my condition instead of making a nuisance of myself when the opportunities arrive. My hubby thinks I've blown em! Gone round the bend, got a screw loose! Fact is he doesn't really know me at all. He thinks I'm writing to pen pals when I'm on ISN and never questions my constant tapping on the computer, or why the washing up hasn't been done! One day it will hit him in the face like a great big plank of wood that I'm becoming more of an household name than he thinks.

Is it that I'm just a bored housewife, at home all day with no sense of purpose any more? I do feel slightly in harmony with Cinderella, or is it one of the ugly step-sisters, yeah probably! My life sometimes feels like a pantomime!

"Oh no it doesn't!" I hear you cry.

"Oh Yes it does!" I reply.

I don't really want to be famous. No one in our family has ever been in the limelight, in fact it's considered very forward of me to put myself in the frame for anything. My Grandma would shudder at the thought! She was very un-nerved when I auditioned as a tree in the school play. I didn't get it! -- How sad is that! She would be so critical, I'm sure, but perhaps a little bit proud -- who knows?

Got to dash -- interview with the press -- (just joking)!


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Letting Go

Posted by CFMBabs , 27 September 2008 · 627 views

It's very rare that I write blogs on Saturday but fact is, I just haven't had time. Not that I have too much going on, gone are the days of running around like a headless chicken; whatever that means? But overall the last two days have been a bit hectic.

My daughter went hyper when her boyfriend, a cute little guy, decided to come round to see her. The shame she feels about this farm, I share in sympathetic agreement. It's not exactly the kind of place you would want to bring your flame to, I reluctantly invite guests myself. In fact I hate the dietitian paying a visit, always apologising for the geese, dog, chickens, goats -- wall.

"Did you say you have no wall?" she asked.

Well, that's what I said and then she goes on wondering how I cope and turns into a pity party which is the last thing I want.

So back to the lovesick young gentleman who wants to play Romeo without the serenade -- least I hope so, we have enough serenading going on with the geese outside.

"He's coming at six o' clock," she said in a fluster. "Can we at least improve on something?"

Well unless my hubby could build a full gable end, plaster a whole room, lay a new yard, round up the flock, plant roses and paint the entire house, then the answer was No!

"I hate this place. Why can't we have a normal house in a normal place, in fact why can't we be normal and be normal?" And with that disappeared upstairs with heavy feet and scrunched up face.

I found myself vacuuming, polishing and cleaning the kitchen until the whole house stunk of bleach. The cat got screamed at for walking into the kitchen and flew out the door without her paws even touching the stone flags. Spring cleaning in autumn and for what? This guy was only coming to see her, not my half finished abode and if he didn't like it -- tough!

My daughter met him at the top of the hill. Hubby had cross words with me for letting her go on her own, but what can you do when she doesn't want you to chaperone her. I did moan at her a bit but you have to let go at some stage. She did walk across the field and she was in view -- I watched from the upstairs window, and what was that I said about letting go? I saw her rush to the gate as a car pulled into the lay-by. My eyes aren't that good but I could see it was a green car and I was satisfied.

They arrived shortly after as I rushed downstairs without her knowing I'd been watching. The geese kicked off in a frenzy. Chickens appeared from everywhere thinking food was on hand and the goats upon hearing the mayhem, raced into the yard for a nosey. The poor lad froze as my daughter took his arm and dragged him into the house.

"It's okay love" I said with a welcoming smile "They won't touch you"

He smiled and sat down. "I thought I'd had it when they all came at me," he said.

I reassured him although I think he felt safer indoors when my daughter asked if he wanted to go for a walk. He quipped back with an instant, "No!" So my daughter said, "Put the kettle on mum"

Sensing that they wanted to be alone, I wandered into the kitchen and then over to my hubby who was working on the wall.

"Where are they -- what are they doing?" he grilled.

"They're okay, stop worrying -- what's the matter with you?" I offered him a drink but I could see he'd begun to put his things away. "Are you all finished," I asked knowing full well that he was packing up because his little girl was alone with a boy in our front room. Before he rushed in like a jealous bodyguard, I called Steph for a moment. "Take this money and go out," I said quietly. "Take him to the little pub in the next village -- you can have fizzy drinks."

Steve came into the room covered head to foot in dust. "Awreet" he said in a deep Lancashire accent. I glared at Steph and under my breath I whispered "Go." Steve went upstairs to change and by the time he had finished, they'd gone! It was a close shave. What is it with dads and girls?

My week has been full of memories of how my parents used to react when I brought a boy home. It's true that as we grow older we become our parents, even though you vowed never to be like them. Maybe it's a fact of life -- who knows?


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An Answer For Serena!

Posted by CFMBabs , 24 September 2008 · 751 views

I think Serena (Barefut) is pointing the finger at me -- yes! I know who you are referring to when you mention chickens! And I applaud the fact that you've brought up public conveniences in your blog too. They happen to be my pet hate also, especially where the toilet rolls are concerned. They can never be too low off the ground for me, I am somewhat vertically challenged in that department. Which brings me to a rather amusing story and which may go some way to explain why toilet rolls are placed so low.

My hubby was needing the bathroom quite badly when on a night out with some friends. At this point I want to make myself clear when I say it's not always the women who go to the restrooms in pairs! Anyway, several of the party decided to go during an interval session with an awful singer who'd have been better off sticking his head down the loo -- he couldn't have sounded any worse!

The women all went to the room and one by one, came out, put on the lippy and preened themselves in the mirror. By this time you couldn't breathe, there was so much perfume in the air, you know the script!

When we returned to our seats, the men were all laughing so much that tears were streaming down their faces. Trying to get them fess up took the rest of the interval by which time the singer had returned and was murdering another ballad! Our constant nagging for the truth earned our table a disgruntled Shhhhh! from someone who was either deaf or related to the strangled cat on stage. We duly calmed ourselves with the occassional titter from the menfolk. We could hardly wait for the guy to finish and hoped dearly that he wouldn't be asked back for an encore. If I'd have had rotten tomatoes, well! I may have thrown them but this is not the dark ages, in fact if it had've been he might have been shot with an arrow or something!

The singer left the stage to thunderous applause, not for the glee of enjoyment but for the relief he'd finished.The room calmed and all eyes were on our partners "C'mon then -- share!"

They all began at once "Well there was a queue for the urinals" one said!

"We'd just managed to do 'you know what' and were zipping up when there was a little tug on mine and his pants," said another

"Yeah! and when we looked down there was this little guy all of 2ft tall wanting to pee and couldn't reach," said my hubby "We picked him up so he could, well, y'know?"

Small things amuse small minds. So maybe that's why paper rolls are so low!


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Crunch -- What Crunch?

Posted by CFMBabs , 23 September 2008 · 651 views

Fire leaping up the chimney, two layers of clothing and a gloomy picture outside. So good to be home -- not!

Where has this year gone? I was looking forward to spring and then summer; I'm still waiting! The summer never materialised nor with it my dreams of a completed house, roses round the door, etc!

Yes! It's been an eventful year, though I don't know where much of it went. We had sadness by the bucketful, joy in small doses and complete stalemate where hopes for a normal family home turned into yet another year of disappointment.

So here comes autumn! I walked around the fields sodden with water. The trees are looking rather sad and the air is damp and cold. The geese followed closely behind and behind them came the chickens; I was not alone. I picked up small logs for the fire and smiled to myself at the enterage over my shoulder.

I turned on the TV as I slumped into my chair beside the fire and the news depressed me further: credit crunch, rising costs, fuel, global warming -- is there no good news? I sometimes wonder if we get too much information, probably because news reporting has less restrictions these days, or could it be the increase in foreign travel, who knows? It's times like these that make me feel lucky; at least I have my land to wander, and by the time I've tread over 4 fields I've forgotten how bad the world really is!

Yesterday, I was challenged by a goat. He went up on hind legs for a head butting contest that I wasn't about to enter. "He's playing with you," my hubby said. Play or not, I wasn't game. That's my last visit to the pen -- all I need right now is a whopping bruise or worse.

I've been far too accident prone lately, falling into a blackberry bush wasn't pretty though absolutely hilarious according to my daughter. I don't fancy attending the casualty department having been attacked by a goat or goose for that matter! I'm sure one of them has it in for me.

I even have a problem with the chickens at the moment. As soon as my door opens -- whoosh they flap in like the opening day of the January sales: it's feathers, poo and mayhem. That's because my daft hubby left a bucket of corn in the utility room, problem is they alerted the geese as well so whilst I'm shoo-ing the chickens the geese creep in behind, and believe me they take no prisoners when corn is on hand. I have what amounts to chicken shed frenzy and the aftermath of a pillow fight.

My life is never boring as such but I sometimes wish for a quiet life, to get on with just being me instead of Old McDonald's floozie.


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Home with Raynaud's!

Posted by CFMBabs , 19 September 2008 · 641 views

The pool area was very quiet the morning after the Greek Evening, for reasons you can probably guess? There was much wine being drunk and a few very worse for wear individuals by the end of the evening -- fortunately I was not one of them.

Yannis was leaning on the bar waiting for customers. He turned on the music as I chose my sun lounger. My hubby and daughter followed on but it was like we had the whole place to ourselves -- it was 9.30am. The sun was beating down, just one more day and we'd be home -- oohh! what a thought.

I had my usual strawberry milkshake and my hubby had a breakfast, "Where does he put all this food?" I wondered. My daughter drank fresh orange and moaned about going home. The mood was rather solemn knowing that this was the last full day -- holiday over!

The pool area began to fill up with people, and we decided to go into town for some some last minute gifts. I always bring olive oil home with me and also some georgeous Greek honey. Steph had decided to buy her friends at college a purse each, so off we went on our little shopping trip. We stopped by a taverna which had swinging hammock style chairs, I loved this place most of all and never wanted to move. I watched the sea crash in against the rocks, I could have stayed there forever!

We wandered back to the apartment, bags in hand, and I'd already begun to pack our things away. I was determined that we wouldn't be on the last minute and we'd enjoy the last night, so I placed all the clothes we needed on the beds. The bus was to pick us up at 11.30 in the morning. The flight home was 3.15 in the afternoon. I checked the tickets to confirm.

We wandered over to our Greek friends whom we've known for 5 years. Their welcoming hugs always makes me sad to leave and Stella always makes a little buffet of cakes, fruit and Raki out on the patio. She'd made little olive oil biscuits, and we play a game guessing the ingredients. Her English isn't good but improving each year. Manolis on the other hand, speaks excellent English and translates most of the conversation.

"I am diabet," she said. I knew what she meant as she refrained from eating any of the sweet things.

"I cannot eat," I said and her face turned to sorrow as I revealed my peg tube. I'd never told them about my problem but I felt now was the right time. I'd always made excuses in the past and I was sure she thought that I didn't like her food. She uttered something to Manolis and although my Greek is not good, I understood what she said.

"Pos-ton-lanie?" -- meaning what is the name! She was quite taken aback when I replied, "E-sa scleroderma Stella!" -- I have scleroderma. I knew sclero was a Greek word meaning hard skin so she would understand.

"Your Greek is much better" Manolis said "You understood what Stella said and she understands you!"

My daughter moaned, "Here we go all Geek again."

The air was becoming quite sad. I didn't want sympathy, just an excuse for not eating Stella's biscuits without causing offence.

"Ima Poly kala," I said (Very good)

Her face lit up and I received an even tighter hug. Phew! Situation relaxed as my hubby popped grapes in his mouth one after the other. Manolis poured another Raki

"You go home tomorrow?" He asked "When you come back?"

I told him that we'd be back next year with more people than ever before. I explained our plans to hold Steph's 18th birthday celebrations in Crete along with her friends and ours. They seemed quite excited about that and made us promise to pre-warn them of our arrival.

I was so sad to leave Manolis and Stella. They waved till we were out of sight and with a huge lump in my throat, the reality of home was ever nearing. Saying farewell is incredibly hard when you love the people you have met over the years. Manolis and Stella hold a special place in my heart, such kind and gentle folk a world away from old England and the rat race of home.

The night was long as we stayed up later, cramming everything in. Going to bed now would mean that morning would soon come -- and it did!

The bus came on time. Our farewells and promises we left down a dirt track towards the coach. Glum faces each and everyone as we walked down the isle and we took our seats. I looked out of the window as the bus pulled away and the rep informed us of the procedures at the airport. We'd been so many times before that we already knew what to do, but listened all the same.

My hubby fussed as usual about the passports and tickets, if he asked me once more if I had them I'd scream. We arrived at the airport -- chaotic as usual! Everyone jostling for position, scraping legs with cases, children crying, people moaning -- I hate departures! We checked in eventually. My passport was scrutinised. "Oh yes." I'd forgotten about the dreaded passport photo. He looked me up and down and then glanced at the photo again. My heart missed a beat. One final look and he handed me the passport back -- Phew!

We went up the stairs to the duty free shop. Steph bought after shave for her boyfriend and I bought a bar of chocolate for the plane. Soon the announcement came for our flight -- this is it! We were taken by buses across the airport hardstanding to the plane. Its engines ticked over and the warm breeze blew around us as we boarded. My boarding pass showed the number of our seats. I sat by the window. Steve messed around with a bag trying to shove it in the overhead locker. Steph fiddled with the seatbelt. I held my cardigan in my hand, checked my handbag for socks. The plane began to taxi. I stared out of the window. I could see the mountains and the blue sea and all the little houses by the airport. The trees swayed gently in the warm breeze. My last look from the ground.
The engines became louder and then we sped down the runway: Bump ---bump -----bump -bump-bump, the sound of the wheels on the concrete, then nothing as we rose into the air. The houses became small, the plane turned and I could see the little boats on the sea. I gazed at the isle as it's shores grew distant. Soon we were over the sea and high in the sky -- Bye-bye, Crete!

I gazed occasionally out of the window over the Austrian Alps and the coastline of Italy. The white clouds began to thicken and soon you could see nothing at all. It was almost 2.5 hours into the flight and the clouds began to turn grey. The air in the cabin turned cooler, I put on my socks. A shiver came over me, so I put my cardigan on. I cupped my hands around a disgusting coffee, my middle finger was numb, not even home yet and I'd had my first Raynaud's attack.

We landed on time at Manchester. The skies were gloomy but at least not raining. We collected our luggage, through passport control and then out of the airport. My fingers were dead by this time. Full blown Raynaud's, my toes as well. Welcome to the UK! a huge sign said. Mmmmm!

We arrived home just after 8 in the evening. First job was to light a fire. Everywhere felt damp, cold and although we were exhausted, we couldn't rest.

"Let's go out," my hubby said. So we did!

Raynaud's was home with a vengeance!


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No Raynaud's For A Week! - Part 4

Posted by CFMBabs , 17 September 2008 · 653 views

What to wear for the Greek Evening was probably the hardest decision I'd had to make all week. Do I wear a dress, nice shorts, or pants? A dress would look more formal and since Greek Evenings had a tendancy to get rather frivolous, I decided to go with 3/4 length shorts.

I had no intention of dancing the Zorba or throwing myself into a belly dance (that would have been interesting). My participation would be merely as a spectator but somehow I always get dragged in and that usually causes a problem! It's a problem too when the food is placed in front of you -- how do you explain that you can't eat?

My Greek does not stretch to the ins and outs of my medical condition, so I graciously accept the food, pretend to eat it and my hubby eats it for me. Steve needs to dance the Zorba afterwards to get rid of all the souvlaki, gyros and salad he consumed, not to mention wine!

The sun went down against a backdrop of a wondefull lilac and pink sky. I could smell the food cooking downstairs and a single Balalaika strumming out tunes. There was movement all around the complex as chairs and tables scraped the marble floors. The pool was empty of people but sparkled against the sunset. I was ready first. I didn't need much make up since my face had turned a healthy colour instead of the pale palour I'm used to. I wore a strappy top and felt warm all over.

We left the apartment and wandered downstairs. It was almost dark but we walked into the area which was lit with candles. Everyone was at the bar and wandering around. We were shown to our table by George and one by one everyone sat down. I sat facing an Irish couple who had never been to Greece before and looked a little nervous especially when the music began and two Cretan dancers skipped into the the marbled area.

"Do they expect us to do that?" They asked.

"No, just kick your legs a bit and you'll be fine," I replied as they clapped their hands in time with everyone else.

The food arrived, Steve ate mine and some of Steph's as well -- she was full! The dancers began to wander around choosing people to dance with. I went conveniently to the toilet at that point and when I returned there were lots of people dancing and tripping over each other's feet.

I thought hubby was having some kind of fit until I realised he was trying to dance. His belly bounced up and down as he kicked his legs in the air, it looked so funny that my stomach ached with laughter. It wasn't funny though when one of the dancers took my arm. I tried my best to be polite and make fun of myself not being able to jump around until finally I said a resounding No!

I hate to dissappoint the Greeks but I simply can't jump around. George understood because he'd seen my peg tube when I was round the pool. He never enquired what it was for, but he came to my rescue and explained to the dancer that I should be excluded from taking part. He sat down with me afterwards and I explained why I had the tube. He looked sad and very concerned but I was upbeat. I lifted my arms in the air and said "Hey, no worries -- I'm okay!"

With that he smiled and brought me a fizzy drink "On me" He said!

The karaoke began with several tipsy people killing a song. As the night went on it went louder and louder and everyone thought they could belt out a tune. If any talent scouts had been there they'd have stuck their heads in the pool -- if another Elvis got up, I was going back to the room. We had Tom Jones on our table -- It's not unusual! he sang, well from where I was sitting it was exactly that, it was a very unusual Tom Jones. -- Brits abroad, you can't beat em!

George came in, "Shhhh everyone, the hotel next door is complaining about the noise"

That was like waving a red flag to a bull and everyone joined in louder than before. It was 11.30 and certainly not that late in the evening when you're on holiday. The Greeks found it highly amusing that we all sang "We'll Meet Again" and then all the old wartime tunes. No tact have the Brits, but they were all laughing and I have to admit it was rather humourous, especially when the Greeks joined in too!

The night ended with just a few people sat around the bar. I'd stayed till the end. We chatted for a while until I began to yawn and my daughter was slowly closing her eyes. Time for bed.

No show for Raynauds!


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No Raynaud's For A Week! - Part 3

Posted by CFMBabs , 17 September 2008 · 751 views

I was turning a decisive colour by day three. I had strap marks where my bikini had been. It's not the ideal way of looking your best, I know it can be dangerous but as long as it's done with care and only a couple of times a year, I guess wrong or right, I take the chance. I had a high factor lotion but to be honest I just enjoyed the warmth more than having a tan!

It was the day that we were invited to join in the fun on a planned Greek dancing evening which was to be held at the complex on Sunday -- it was Thursday already! George produced a list from behind the bar and with big brown eyes and a pleading smile, we duly added our names. "Can you sing?" He asked and then explained that there was also a Karaoke afterwards. My answer was a resounding No! Did he want a wall full of of stray cat's joining in the chorus I wonder? My singing voice has much to be desired and definitely not to be aired in public!

We were able to stay outdoors later as the week went on, 'climatising' my hubby called it, and indeed we were adapting to the shock of high temperatures with each hour that passed. Even the evenings became longer and I was becoming quite used to going to bed in the early hours. As each night came to a close, it was a day nearer to going home and with that thought in mind, I was already planning our next trip. Next year is my daughter's 18th birthday and what better way to spend such an occasion than under a clear blue sky and big yellow sun; my mind was working overtime!

The weekend came all too soon and tomorrow was the Greek Evening. By this time we'd got to know most of the residents and the talk was mainly about what was going to happen. Most first time Greek holiday makers knew nothing about the culture and the dances. We've been visiting Greece for over 23 years and I even know a line or two of the language, not to mention I'm able to read it. So I guess we were rather all too familiar with what goes on in that respect but to reveal the events in advance would have been unfair.

The weather reports from home were pretty bleak which rather made us quite glad we were there and not back in Blighty, though we did concern ourselves a little about the animals and the state of the renovation work upon leaving. The mere mention of gale force winds made a shiver travel down my spine and think about the gaping hole in my gable. Still, what could we do two thousand miles away except wonder. I put it to the back of my mind for a couple of hours and then lay awake with worry for most of the night. It's amazing what can happen in the space of eight hours because when I rang my dad the following morning, the worst scenario had never materialised and the goats on his arrival were happily munching in the field pen, the geese quietly in a group on the lawn and the chickens just doing what chickens do. The dog was its usual excitable self and the cat was unconcerned as it lay on top of our little car in the drive. "All's well," he said, "even the house." and my niggling problem went away.

I tried my pidgin Greek on the poor unsuspecting locals. I was saying the right phrase but with a strong Lancashire accent it came out a bit like I was intoxicated. I was abruptly but sympathetically corrected with my pronunciation amidst a huge moan from my daughter who thinks I'm round the bend and exclaimed "She's gone geek again" instead of Greek!

My "To logharismo parakalo" (The bill please) ended my attempt in the taverna and Steph couldn't leave fast enough. Ah well!

Dancing shoes at the ready -- still Raynaud's free!


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No Raynaud's For A Week! - Part 2

Posted by CFMBabs , 16 September 2008 · 626 views

Second day began much as the day ended previously. I was on my lounger before the rest of the complex got up. Already the temperature was in the high 80's, today was definately going to be a scorcher.

A single bead of sweat ran down my cheek, but it was a satisfying feeling after the only moisture to run down my face was the pouring rain of home and no way was I moving out of the sun -- I'd frazzle first! Thank goodness the sun agrees with me and I'm not unfortunate enough to have a reaction towards it.

My daughter was up and down, first soaking up the rays and then with a little moan, jumping into the pool with a tiny scream, it was freezing! I'd overheard many of the guests complaining about the pool's temperature so I was well and truly forewarned not to take a dip myself. Of course by the end of the day I did attempt a toe dip and well, let's just say that it was enough.

The evening began in the bar. I sat on a high stool, quite how I managed to get my leg up so high was a feat in itself. I clung onto the bar and just about managed to put my feet without dangling, on the little ledge around the seat. My next trick was to decide what to drink. I can't drink alcohol, what a dissappointment when there was so much to choose from. In the end I settled for a strawberry milkshake with a little umbrella and a multitude of toys placed in it. It tasted so good, I didn't want it to end.

We were joined by others who had arrived just as we did the previous day. It's always a joy to meet other people from different walks of life and sometimes it's a game we play -- guessing where they are from or what line of work they do. We very often get it wrong but I'm sure most people play this game too. We thought that the four ladies who were with their mum, were hairdressers or something. They always seemed to be out on the balcony with all manner of hair products and a chair with one of them in it having her hair straightened. We were surprised to learn that they all worked in a care home, but they earned the nickname Hairdressers for the rest of the week.

Another couple from Manchester had us in fits of laughter with their antics, especially when Patsy fell off her seat after a few shots of Raki (Local fire water) I wonder what the Greeks make of us then? The night ended on the second day with a yawning teenager, hubby much the worse for drink, and me ready for my bed around 12.30. By all accounts I'd done well. I'd survived a full day in the sun, a walk into town and a night at the bar. I earned my worth and most of all I felt normal! Still no sign of Raynauds!






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