Author: samantha

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Shopping-Shy

On By samanthaIn SHOPPINGLeave a comment

The fact that I have a category on my blog called Shopping perhaps seems rather ironic to anyone who knows me because I loathe shopping. The only person I know who hates it more than I do is my daughter who world probably rather go to the dentist than to the shops.  When I was in my teens I used to catch the 294 bus to the next big town, Romford, and spend a happy hour or two wandering around Top Shop and Miss Selfridge. I think I enjoyed the freedom of having a little of my own money to spend and having autonomy over my clothing choices. Now it just seems like a chore, especially shopping for clothes. 

When I worked in The City in my twenties I would plan my outfits out for a fortnight at a time so I didn’t repeat them too often. I was constantly buying new clothes and shoes. Now, especially in the winter, I wear a variation on the same outfit every day, a warm sweatshirt and jeans. If I am leaving the house, which I seem to do less and less since I began working from home, I might put on a smarter top, probably from Zara, but that’s about the only concession. It is as if I have become a completely different person.

The worst type of place for my daughter and I to visit is a shopping mall but, occasionally, it is unavoidable. The nearest one to us is Bluewater near Dartford, a huge place whee the shop you need is always at the other end to where you are currently standing. I took my daughter there just before she left for university as she needed some new hoodies and a couple of things for going out but it is as if she goes into trance as soon as she enters a clothing store. Even in Urban Outfitters, one of her favourite brands, she doesn’t engage in the shopping experience at all. I wonder if it is a sense of overwhelm, there is inevitably blaring music playing and racks and racks of jumbled up clothes as well as random piles spilling over every surface, almost too much choice. We hastily picked out a couple of things and left. 

Shopping malls are, to me at least, completely souless places. Maybe I am biased as, many years ago, when I was heavily pregnant I went to Bluewater to buy a few last minute things for the baby. My husband had a work meeting nearby so I was just pottering around waiting for him to collect me when I tripped over a very shallow step that I hadn’t seen because of my bump. To avoid falling on my stomach I deliberately twisted to the side and ended up injuring my ankle. I couldn’t get back up again. Not one person helped me. I eventually managed to stand and dragged myself over to a bench and sat, quietly crying, until my husband came back. Despite their lack of assistance a group of women had stood around muttering “ooh she’s pregnant” and I think my tears were due to feeling completely humiliated. 

One form of shopping I actually quite enjoy is what my friend Caroline describes as a “rummage” around an old-fashioned department store. When I lived in Upminster there was, and I believe it is still there, a beautiful old store called Roomes. My mum even worked there for while, in the children’s department. When my oldest son was a baby I spent many contented half hour sitting in their coffee shop eating a huge slab of carrot cake and drinking a latte while gazing out of the window over the High Street. My son would conveniently nap in his pushchair until he became old enough to throw a tantrum, His biggest ever tantrum was on the floor of the toy department and I remember one imperious woman making me feel like the world’s worst mother. Newsflash – young children sometimes throw a wobbly. Now I occasionally hop on a train and visit a similar store, Hoopers, in Tunbridge Wells. It is much more expensive than Roomes and I do wonder how they keep going with an entire floor dedicated to things that an eighty year old would wear to a wedding but, again, I love to sit in their welcoming coffee shop watching the world go by.

Coffee and blueberry muffin at Hoopers in Tunbridge Wells

I do think it is a case of “use them or lose them” when it comes to the shops on our local high streets. In the town where I live it is already mostly all estate agents, coffee shops, nail bars and, more recently, vape shops. There is no shoe shop or children’s clothing store anymore and we have just lost another independent boutique. We do still have a branch of White Stuff that always seems to be empty so I did make a point of buying a couple of Christmas gifts from there. The lady working told me customers tend to order online but make the returns to the physical shop. She said she processed more returns than sales which must be rather disheartening.

These days I spend my time trying to get rid of stuff rather than accumulating it. Fortunately I don’t see the need for a trip to the mall for sometime so will carry on rummaging in the quirky department stores if I do need anything new. My daughter, however, will not be accompanying me!

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Heidi Fin on Unsplash

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L’Oreal Midnight Serum & Creams

On By samanthaIn HEALTHLeave a comment

For Christmas one of my friends sent me, via good old Amazon, a L’Oreal gift set comprising of three products from their “Midnight ” anti-aging range. I can’t remember ever seeing this range in the chemist or supermarket. I do use a couple of L’Oreal products already, their Colour Riche lipstick in the shade Taffeta is one of my favourites and I like their RevitaLift eye cream. I find myself hoping that this isn’t just ancient stock that has been languishing in a warehouse for a decade, the boxes look slightly battered and dog-eared.

The Midnight range comes in distinctive gold and black boxes brandished with the words Age Perfect Cell Renew. Inside the boxes are expensive looking smoky brown glass bottles and jars, very similar to Estee Lauder’s Night Repair range. This L’Oreal set consists of Regenerative Cream, Midnight Serum and Revitalising Care Cream. Although my friend tells me she ordered it as a set which was supposed to be in a gift box I received three separate products with no gift box although, of course, I don’t mention that.

The first product I try is the night cream. Enriched with Neohesperidine and vitamin E, the cream feels luxurious and glides on. I am very prone to migraines and fragrance is a big trigger for me. This product is very highly perfumed and I do not like the scent at all, it reminds me of Youth Dew, a perfume an aunt wore in the 1970s.  I lie in bed unable to escape the smell. Fortunately, by the third night of using it I no longer notice the whiff quite so much.  

According to L’Oreal’s website, the skin begins to repair itself in the hours around midnight. I am going to wake up to millions of new skin cells I am informed. That sounds like an entire new face which is probably exactly what I need. I read that Midnight serum is formulated with a powerful antioxidant recovery complex. The serum is gorgeous to use, comparable to the aforementioned Estee Lauder Night Repair and it feels somehow… velvety. Unfortunately, it is also quite strongly scented. It is applied via a dropper which is a little fiddly to use. It is currently priced at £15.95 on Amazon UK.

The Age Perfect Renew cream isn’t featured on the L’Oreal website at the time of me writing this so perhaps it has been discontinued. It doesn’t actually appear to be part of the Midnight range although the packaging is the same. Like the other products, it is scented with elderly lady perfume but it feels luxurious to use, thick but not greasy. I was concerned that the fragrance would irritate my skin but that hasn’t been the case at all. After about ten days of using these products my skin feels well hydrated and soft. 

Had this range not been so strongly scented I would probably repurchase but the strong smell is a deal-breaker for me. The products are otherwise pleasant to use and seem to be effective so I will definitely finish all the jars and then have shop around for something else.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

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Goodbye to 2023

On By samanthaIn FAMILYLeave a comment

It is New Year’s Eve and the most exciting thing I have planned is my Tesco delivery. All three of my children are going to various parties and I am on chauffeuring duty for my youngest who has a house party to go to. I wonder if the parents realise they are going to be besieged by sixteen and seventeen year olds or whether they are going out themselves. It’s my son’s seventeenth birthday next week and I am waiting for the “can I have a few friends over?” request. It never is a few but I don’t mind, as long as nobody is vomiting. Unfortunately once they reach sixteen it’s not really a party unless someone is sick, for some reason is it usually one of the girls. I’d rather them all be safe at my house or, preferably somebody else’s, than hanging around somewhere. My son knows no hanging around allowed!

I have never really enjoyed New Years’s Eve. To be honest, I find it a little depressing. My friends would persuade me to go to the to the pub as a teenager and there would invariably be creepy men demanding a kiss at midnight. In 1992 my now-husband and I went to a NYE ball when on a skiing trip in Colorado and I even managed to be miserable there. I seem to remember everyone (well, the women) wearing taffeta dresses while I was in an itchy angora jumper and ski-pants having not known where we were going. So much for last minute, vague arrangements. I have never worn ski-pants again – the only person ever to have looked good in them is Audrey Hepburn. The last time we went out for NYE was about three years ago to friends for dinner. Usually my husband stays up to watch proceedings on the television and I try to be asleep before midnight but there are usually loud fireworks gong off in somewhere in our village. Even my parents, nearly ninety years old, have more fun than me, going to their neighbour’s house for drinks and nibbles.

I pop round to my parents’ house and give them a hand with a few bits around the house, my mum seems a little confused as to who I am at one point. I then send my daughter off to her party with a bottle of prosecco and settle down to watch Suspicion, a 1941 Hitchcock thriller with Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine.  I can’t say I am suffering from FOMO, it is blowing a gale outside and I am quite happy to have a sedate transition into 2024. It has been a somewhat difficult year what with my dad’s heart attack and my mother-in-law’s recent long hospital stay but we are still all here and that is something to be grateful for.

Happy New Year to everyone!

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Photo by Kostiantyn Li on Unsplash

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This week I have been…

On By samanthaIn GOING OUT1 Comment

Reading – Then She Was Gone by Lisa Jewell

So many psychological thrillers advertised on Amazon seem to feature a missing teenage girl and her overwrought mother in their storyline. The blurb on the front cover is always the same, Heartbreaking, Addictive etc. Having read one or two of Jewell’s other books I knew that this would not be a churned-out-for-Kindle disappointment. Then She Was Gone is particularly chilling because it is, in part, narrated by her adductor. of the way then fifteen year old Ellie just appears to disappear off the face of the earth. A conscientious student, she had been gong to the library to study in peace for her GCSEs. There don’t appear to be any sightings, leads or clues as to what happened to her. Then one day, after seven agonising years, her backpack is found along with, sadly, some remains and Laurel, Ellie’s Mum, goes back down the rabbit hole of trying to figure our what happened to her “golden” daughter. There is quite a lot of girls being described as golden in this book.

The stress of Ellie’s disappearance causes Laurel’s marriage to break down and her relationships with her two remaining children suffer. Hannah, Ellie’s sister knows that she is a poor substitute for Lauren’s favourite, now dead, daughter  Laurel meets a flirtatious man called Floyd in a coffee shop and begins a tentative new romance. Her new beau is some sort of maths wizard with his own peculiar fan base. He has a seven year old, horribly precocious, daughter, Poppy, who is home schooled and behaves as though she is thirty-five.

When we learn of Ellie’s fate it is horrifying, in part, because the perpetrator is last person anybody would suspect. The cruelty and selfishness involved is staggering. The thought that we go through life brushing shoulders with people who have such sickening personality traits is terrifying. All in all a bleak page-turner that does perhaps stretch the boundaries of believability.

Watching – Saltburn on Amazon Prime Video written and directed by Emerald Fennell

My daughter saw this at the cinema and when I asked her about it she just said it was weird and that she was glad I hadn’t been watching with her! I quite like weird so decided to watch it over the Christmas break. The title Saltburn refers to the name of the stately home that Felix Catton and his photogenic and enormously rich family reside in. The first thing to mention about this black comedy is that Saltburn is full of dazzlingly beautiful people. Australian actor Jacob Elordi who plays Felix is perhaps this generation’s Robert Pattison with his aristocratic good looks and floppy dark hair. His mother, Elspeth, is played by Rosamund Pike who appears to be doing her best Joanna Lumley impersonation. The father is played in a very understated way by a dishevelled Richard E Grant. 

Felix is a student at Oxford University and catches the eye of Oliver Quick, payed by Barry Keoghan. I had previously seen Keoghan in the utterly bizarre and unsettling film The Killing of a Sacred Deer with Nicole Kidman and Colin Farrell. Oliver is definitely not one of the cool, elite, beautiful people and watches the fun and debauchery from the sidelines. Then one day and opportunity presents itself for him to help Felix and Oliver grabs it with both hands. In no time at all he finds himself invited to Saltburn to meet Felix’s family and once there, Oliver certainly makes an impression. He ingratiates himself with Felix’a parents, has a bizarre sexual encounter with his sister, Venetia, and manages to thoroughly usurp a cousin, Farleigh . There are a couple of, quite frankly, nauseating scenes involving blood and bathwater and this film definitely has plenty of shock value. I couldn’t help but note that, as the plot progresses, Oliver is styled to look more and more like Jude Law in one of his most famous roles. My favourite character was Duncan the butler played by Paul Rhys. His disdainful facial expressions really stole the show.

At two hours seven minutes Saltburn is quite long but doesn’t fail to hold the attention. I would have liked to have seen little more of Farleigh’s backstory, he did just seem to be a little bit of an afterthought and Carey Mullgan’s appearance as “Poor Dear Pamela” was far too brief. The end scene, set to Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s Murder on the Dancefloor, is very funny and outrageous. Keoghan does look a little too old to be playing a teenage student but we can overlook that in light of his brilliant performance.

Listening to – Juicy Scoop with Heather McDonald on Itunes

After the rather heavy watching and reading choices I opted for something more light-hearted and fun to listen to this week. Heather McDonald is an American comedian best known for her work on Chelsea Lately which, I must confess, I never watched. She is also known for collapsing in the middle of a stand-up performance just after proclaiming “Jesus loves me the most” as the punchline for one of her jokes (you can watch on YouTube). The conspiracy theorists had a field day with that.

Juicy Scoop is a gossipy pop-culture show which features interesting and usually funny, guests many of them women building their own little empires within the the entertainment industry. There are stories of plastic surgery nightmares, dodgy yet hilarious modelling auditions and glamourous Hollywood parties. Have a look out for the episodes recorded with Heather’s fellow comic and friend, Chris Franjola, perfect for listening to if you just want something to make you laugh.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

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Busy Doing Nothing

On By samanthaIn FAMILYLeave a comment

It’s December 27th and I am not in a good mood. I have two weeks away from work for Christmas, unpaid, as I have to work on a self-employed basis since the pandemic but that is a whole other, moany post. Since last Christmas I have only taken one week off so I have been looking forward to relaxing but, here’s the thing, I seem to have forgotten how. If I am not running around wearing myself out I feel anxious and lazy.

It has been a busy couple of days. At very short notice my mother-in-law was discharged from hospital on Christmas Day so my husband has not been at home very much at all. He spent Christmas day at her house refilling her kitchen cupboards and organising carers for her. I had our three children for Christmas lunch as well as my parents and brother. I did all of the cooking and clearing up. I had to collect my parents and, at the end of the day, drive them the short way home. Getting my house-bound mum in and out of the car safely was stressful but my oldest son did a wonderful job of helping. By the end of Christmas Day I was completely frazzled. On Boxing Day I went for a walk and had a big tidy up of the house. Oh the excitement!

Today I decided to let myself sit on the sofa and watch one of those soppy Hallmark Christmas movies. I was about fifteen minutes in and thoroughly enjoying the film when suddenly I realised it was 11am and there I was, a fit and able person, watching TV in the daytime, surely this is an actual crime. The film now spoiled, I went upstairs to sort laundry , barking complaints at my daughter for dumping just about every garment she has ever owned in the wash. Jeez, what a misery guts I am. Perhaps, I think, I will pointlessly catch a train to Tunbridge Wells and have a pointless wander around the shops, at least then I will be doing something but I am thwarted as the trains all appear to be cancelled and I can’t face driving around trying to find a a parking space. In the end I walk to my parents house and do a little bit of cleaning for them, I instantly feel better for having done something useful.

I wish I was a laid-back type of person, it would probably be far better for my health but that just isn’t my personality type at all. I don’t remember ever seeing my own mother sit down and rest during the day except perhaps on a Sunday afternoon when we would watch Hart to Hart or Butterflies together. If I wake up later than 7.30am I feel an instant sense of panic and guilt. I feel I should be up and doing something. Why am I like this? I read somewhere that we are Human Beings not Human Doings and sometimes we should allow ourselves to just…be.  I do worry about the link between cortisol, the stress hormone, and cancer. Apparently cortisol levels are higher on waking which is why I probably feel at my most jittery during the mornings. I need to make time for some deep breathing exercises and maybe I should try meditation.

My off-switch kicks in around 8pm and then I will take a bath or shower and maybe read or watch some TV . My daughter and I are revisiting old episodes of Dr Who. Probably not what I would choose to watch but she will be returning to university soon and it is a nice way to spend some time together. Phew, I can finally let myself relax. Hopefully I won’t wake up at 3am worrying about a mistake I made at work in 1997. 

Thank you for reading

Samantha

Cover Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

This week I have been…

On By samanthaIn GOING OUTLeave a comment

Reading– Into The Uncanny by Danny Robins

Danny Robins presents a wonderfully spooky podcast called Uncanny. He is also the award winning journalist behind the podcast The Witch Farm and TV series and Podcast The Battersea Poltergeist. The paranormal isn’t really my usual genre but I must admit Robins’ boyishly sincere and enthusiastic presenting style makes for enjoyable listening. He is someone who desperately wants to believe in ghosts but has yet to be convinced.  As he would say, he is hovering between Team Believer and Team Sceptic. The people recounting their personal brushes with the inexplicable are often very credible; scientists, policemen, doctors and the like. Intelligent people who understand that what they have witnessed is impossible but, as the theme song to the podcast attests, they know what they saw.

Into The Uncanny is Robins’ new book which covers never heard before stories, all of them exceptionally chilling. Robins throws in a couple of personal anecdotes and, had I been the editor, I would have omitted the one about his garden shed, it’s just a bit over the top and daft. Other than that, he really is a first rate story teller. Research for this book takes him to Rome to investigate suspected poltergeist activity. Let me ask you a question, if you thought your rental property was haunted by a terrifying poltergeist would you ask a teenage boy to babysit? Then there is the perfectly normal family who had the misfortune to be left with both auditory and visual hauntings after an architectural dig disturbs something (or someone) on their land. The mother and daughter both struggled psychologically for years after these frightening events and Robins treats them very respectfully. I always wonder if the people who sell these supposedly haunted properties disclose the activity to any potential purchasers. 

Robins, possibly the Louis Theroux of the paranormal, can persuade just about anybody to let him look around their potentially haunted property and it is when he takes the original witnesses back to the scenes of the hauntings that things really start to become interesting. The book also covers some UFO activity, again with extremely credible witnesses but, for some reason, these stories don’t interest me so much. I do wonder if he wouldn’t be better to keep the green men separate from the ghosts. Overall a brilliant read and do check out Robins’ podcasts too. 

Watching – Leave The World Behind on Netflix

Julia Roberts and Ethan Hawke star in this apocalyptic thriller. They play Amanda and Clay Sandford, a couple who decide to take their two children on a vacation to a luxury rental home. While in bed one night they are woken by a knock on the door and find GH Scott, the owner of the property and his daughter, Ruth, standing there in evening clothes having supposedly come from the opera. GH explains that there has been some sort of blackout and asks if they can come in and spend the night rather than driving back to the city. Amanda is immediately suspicious and Ruth, played by Myha’la, bristles at what she perceives as Amanda’s thinly veiled racism.  Does Amanda not believe that a GH, a black man, played by Mahershala Ai, can possibly be the owner of such an impressive property? To be honest, if complete strangers turned up at my door in the middle of the night begging to be let in I would be suspicious as well. Ruth and GH end up sleeping in the basement, albeit it a very nice basement, of their own house.

The plot is fairly predictable, fear and uncertainty spreads as nobody knows what is happening or who is behind the events A prepper and neighbour, played by Kevin Bacon, is all stocked up with food and medicine but brings out his shotgun when asked for help. There are a couple of genuinely shocking moments, one involving out of control Teslas and the other a gory dental scene. Overall, Leave The World Behind doesn’t offer anything that I haven’t seen a dozen times before.  It is over two hours long and I really had lost interest by the unsatisfactory ending. 

Listening to – Stories from the Village of Nothing Much on ITunes

This gorgeously relaxing podcast is written and narrated by Kathryn Nicolai. Nicolai describes herself as “an architect of cozy”, she has another podcast designed to help listeners sleep, called Nothing Much Happens which has been downloaded over one hundred million times. Listening to Nicolai’s wonderfully soothing voice is almost a form of meditation. The stories themselves are simple yet well written. In them Nicolai potters around the pretty village where her fictional self lives finding cheering things to do to brighten up the winter. Pleasure is found in simple things, a delicious cup of coffee or a browse around a Christmas market. Everybody is friendly and time spent alone is something to be cherished. This village is somewhere that I would quite like to move to myself. If you are feeling frazzled at this busy time of the year then do listen in.

Cover Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Three

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIES3 Comments

My eighty-nine year old mother-in-law went into hospital for a day three weeks ago. Whilst there she caught a chest infection and has been bed bound on a geriatric ward ever since. My husband said that she is becoming weaker and weaker because she is just left, lying in bed all day. It is a London hospital and the nurses are no doubt busy but my mother-in-law has continually asked to get out of bed and have an assisted walk but it has only happened once in three weeks. There are posters up around the ward urging patients to get moving as, apparently, ten days in bed ages the muscles by ten years. My mother-in-law is far too frail to get out of bed without assistance.

My mother-in-law lives in a town house, only the kitchen is on the ground floor and a toilet. There are lots of steep stairs. My husband thinks that this vertical living has kept his mother fit until now. She does have Asthma and has recently been diagnosed with Dementia although this is not always apparent. We have been told that she still has “capacity” to make her own decisions. Over the past few years we have suggested that she move into sheltered housing, nearer us, but she refuses to leave London. To be honest, who can blame her? I would not like somebody telling me it is time to leave my home of many years. She has lived in the capital all her life, apart from when she was an evacuee in Oxford, the thought of moving to a little village in Kent seems dull to her. She describes where we live as “dead”. It really isn’t but it is a world away from the busy city. She has been having carers in twice a day to help her and it was once of these carers that insisted on taking her to the hospital and staying with her while she was admitted. This isn’t my own mum to write about but I think it is safe to say that she is a complex and sometimes difficult person and we are all wondering what is going to happen when she is discharged from hospital. It will be Christmas in a couple of days and it does not look like she will be going anywhere before then.

It would seem that a sensible solution would be for my mother-in-law would be to go into a care-home for a month or so while she regains her strength and then maybe she can return back to her own house. This would give my husband some time to organise some necessary alterations to the property. If she won’t leave her home then the ground floor will have to be turned into a sort of self contained apartment. Whether she would even be able to manage then is highly questionable. At the moment she is not strong enough to open the wrapper on a bar of chocolate. Perhaps a move to sheltered accommodation would have prevented the possible permanent move into care which is now on the cards.

My husband and I make an appointment to view the care home in our village. I am dreading it. I am looking more for my own mum than my mother-in-law and feel guilty . We meet with the manager who is very well versed on the financials and takes a long time patiently explaining everything to us. The cost per week is £1,850 for residents who have dementia. £1,750 for patients without a dementia diagnosis. So, for my mum and mother-in-law, the annual cost is an enormous £96,200 per year. Each resident must demonstrate that they can self fund for the first two years and then, if their savings run down sufficiently, the local council takes over the cost. The council do not pay anywhere as much as the privately funded residents – they pay £800 per week. So wealthy residents who pay fund their own care for more than two years are subsidising the council funded patients. The manager explains that, because my dad could live another ten years, my parents house will not be included in their assets. I know absolutely nothing about how much Mum and Dad have in savings but I would be very surprised if it is anywhere near the almost £200,000 needed to self-fund two years of care. My mother-in-law is in a more fortunate position as another family member has offered to pay for her care. Which care-homes do less wealthy elderly people go to? I visited my late godmother in a care home in Surrey which was nowhere as nice as this one. I remember walking in and being nauseated by the overwhelming smell of urine, there were sodden piles of underwear on the floor in the toilets, this home just smells clean and fresh. Perhaps they are like hotels and this one is the equivalent of five star.

The manager takes us for a look around. There is nothing not to like. The place is gleaming and tastefully decorated with generic but attractive artwork everywhere. Each of the residents doors has a decal of an old-fashioned front door stuck to it in different, bright colours. The manager explains that people with dementia can recognise colours until very late in their cognitive decline. There is a box-frame outside each room with some photos from the resident’s past and maybe a momento or two. There are sensor matts in case of falls. A TV lounge and dining room. 

The thought of ending up in a care home fills most people with dread. My elderly aunt has said she will not leave her own home under any circumstances. The care home we visited seems like a very pleasant place to live if you can afford it. I have now been told of another local care home specialising in respite care and we will have to go and look at this one as well. My husband is off to see his mum in hospital again this evening. It is upsetting for him to see his feisty mum in such a weakened state but we need to accept what is happening and make plans for a safe future for her.

Poster on the ward my mother-in-law is currently on encouraging patients to get moving.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

A Lifetime of Lipsticks

On By samanthaIn HEALTHLeave a comment

Woolworths, Romford 1984 and teenage me is purchasing the best lipstick I will over own. Woolies own Evette brand in the colour “Mulberry Wine”. The perfect pinky brown which stayed on all day. If only I had known that it would be discontinued I would have bought all their stock with my pocket money. In the forty years since then I have been on the hunt for another colour I have liked so much.

It’s odd that I can remember the name of just about every lipstick I have ever owned. The first was Boots No 17 “Twilight Teaser”, a bluesh, iridescent mauve. I’m sure it looked terrible but it was certainly eye-catching. I wore it to a non-uniform day at school and every girl asked me what colour it was, a new experience for me as I definitely wasn’t known for my style. Another Boots No 17 favourite was the safer and very pretty “Poncho Pink”. I also loved the Miss Selfridge “Kiss and Make Up” range and wonder if Charlotte Tilbury took some of her inspiration from their lip-print embossed branding. I wore their “Iron Maiden” and “Copper Knobs” shades” around 1987. 

When I began to have some disposable income I graduated onto the more expensive brands. Estee Lauder “Spiced Cider”, a rust colour, was one I wore for years along with Lancome’s “Brun Nu” and “Rose Nu”. I went to a wedding around 1991 and actually asked one guest which lipstick she was wearing as I liked it so much and thought it may be “The One”. Clinique “Super Nectar”, I bought it the next day and it looked absolutely hideous on me.

I actually still have the lipstick I wore too my 1994 wedding, a rather daring matt red with incredible staying power, Rochas shade 56, it’s pictured below . I experimented with dark, blackberry colours at this time as well although always had to blot them so there was just the feintest stain left. My favourite which I also still have, although it smells a bit dubious after all these years, was Chanel Shade 36. I now buy Clinique’s Almost lipstick in Black Honey which is a very wearable balm-like tint.

Post Pandemic I seem to wear less make up but I don’t generally leave the house without a quick dusting of face-powder, usually Clinique, and a slick of some lip product or other. Loreal’s “Organza” is usually my go-to everyday lipstick or a tinted lip balm from Dr Paw Paw. I also love Estee Lauder’s “Pinkberry” which is the closest I can come to wearing a nude without looking totally washed out.

I never have been able to find a shade as perfect as my Woolies lipstick but perhaps it was just the thrill of being grown up enough to wear make up for the first time. I also hold fond memories of the little tins of four blushers sold by M & S around the same time but I certainly wouldn’t wear them now. Having said that. my make up choices have barely changed in all these years and perhaps it is time to change things up a little bit.

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

The Dementia Diaries – Chapter Two, Heart Attack – Part I

On By samanthaIn THE DEMENTIA DIARIESLeave a comment

It is ten o’clock one Sunday evening and I am just about to go to bed when my phone starts ringing. I see that it is my parents’ number and hurriedly pick up. My mum unfortunately can no longer manage to make a telephone call so I was expecting to hear Dad’s voice. I was certain it must be some sort of emergency to be calling this late. There didn’t appear to be anyone on the line but then I heard Dad say very quietly “I’m having chest pains”. He seemed to be on the other line to the emergency services. Now, Dad usually keeps his Nokia mobile phone in its box in the back bedroom, he occasionally charges it if he is going to out somewhere but I don’t think I have ever once been able to reach him on it. The fact that it was charged and within reach this particular day was very serendipitous.

My parents literally live a few minutes away from me so I pulled on some jeans over my pyjamas and my husband and I rushed round there. On the way out I grabbed the keys to their house. When I arrived Dad was sitting back on the sofa, ashen faced and mum just looked frightened and confused. Dad confirmed that an ambulance was on the way. He was clearly more worried about what was going to happen to Mum than he was about his own situation, it was really very touching. I assured him that I wouldn’t leave Mum on her own for a second and I could see him visibly relax. He asked me to put together a bag for him to take to the hospital. 

The ambulance still hadn’t arrived after forty-five long minutes so I had to ring again. Then they sent two, what a waste of resources.  The paramedic in charge wired Dad to a portable ECG machine and assured him he wasn’t having a heart attack – this was completely wrong as we would discover when Dad was examined by a doctor. We decided that it would be better if I stayed at my parents’ house with Mum and my husband went in the ambulance with Dad to the hospital. I was very conflicted about this because they have been married for sixty two years and it felt wrong to keep them separate at this time but I also knew that looking after Mum would be a job in itself once we reached the hospital and that she would become difficult because she would be away from her familiar, safe home environment.  It was a cold night, very late and Mum was already understandably becoming distressed. Before the paramedics had even left, she had completely forgotten what had happened and kept asking who the strangers were in their house. 

During the next hour Mum must have asked me where Dad was twenty times. It was incessant. I kept gently explaining and she would look frightened and then repeat the question. I was almost sick with worry myself. My husband was very good and kept me informed and within a couple of hours it became clear that Dad was going to be OK. I spoke to Dad before going to bed and he just wanted to know that Mum was alright.  He said that yes, he had a small heart attack but that the pain had subsided and he was OK. The doctors were going to speak to him the following day about treatment options. Mum and I went off to bed, I slept on my childhood bed under the red Habitat duvet cover I had chosen when I was twelve.  It is probably a collector’s item now!

It took Mum a long time to settle down for the night and I was beginning to lose hope of getting any sleep but she eventually nodded off. I was trying to process everything that had happened. One minute we all seemed to be muddling along and then the next, a massive spanner has hit the works. What would happen to Mum if Dad couldn’t look after her anymore? She certainly couldn’t live alone and I don’t have a spare bedroom. and I have a job, how would we manage?

The next morning I was awake at the crack of dawn and decided to tackle the laundry mountain that poor Dad had been dealing with on a daily basis for the past year or so. Unfortunately incontinence is a symptom of dementia and Mum had recently begun to have problems in this area. She refused to use any products designed to help even though the District Nurse had supplied some, again the “nothing is wrong” approach to things. There was washing all over the house, on every radiator. Dad would consider it far too extravagant to use the tumble dryer sitting, unused, in their utility room. I was just folding up various items of clothing when Mum appeared and demanded to know what I was doing. She would do the laundry she insisted. Even at the age of fifty something, I find it heard to assert myself with Mum and I pretended I hadn’t heard. She then seemed to realise that it was odd that I was even there at all and asked where Dad was, I explained and she nodded and asked again. She would go onto to ask me continually throughout the day. 

During the afternoon my oldest son drove over and we managed to manoeuvre Mum into his car and take her back to my house. I then cooked dinner for everybody. Mum is very sociable and thoroughly enjoyed being made a fuss off and as we left she said “I’ve had a lovely time”. Bless her, she really seemed so happy. Back at her house she announced that she would be staying up until midnight. My heart sank, it was only eight o’clock and I was already exhausted. I rang Dad who said he was feeling much better and told me that he had agreed to take part in a medical trial, treating elderly heart attack victims with medication rather than a bypass.  Fortunately I managed to persuade Mum to go to bed at ten o’clock and, after much faffing about, we both settled down for the night. Just before her head hit the pillow she asked me to knock on the neighbours doors and tell them that Dad had died. My heart sank. This was not going to be an easy few days…..

 Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

This week I have been…

On By samanthaIn GOING OUTLeave a comment

Reading – Manhattan Nocturne by Colin Harrison.

Do you ever think back to a book that you really enjoyed reading years ago but no longer have? You’d love to repurchase it or borrow it from the library but you can’t remember its name. This happens to me ALL the time. I first read Manhattan Nocturne on holiday in Florida in 2000. Because it is such a doorstep of a book and our luggage upon returning home was already overweight, I left in in the hotel room. Anyway, I was recently purchasing from World of Books on eBay and decided to have a browse and what was on the second page of scrolling but this long lost thriller, I immediately recognised the cover. 99p and a few days later I was able to begin re-reading this fantastic thriller.

Porter Wren, a tabloid columnist has a lovely life with his surgeon wife and two children living in their quirky “Apple Tree House” in New York. He meets a beautiful and mysterious young widow at a party who asks him to investigate the bizarre death of her film director husband. Unfortunately for Wren, somebody powerful is watching him very carefully and he soon finds himself in trouble way over his head. This is one of the most gripping thrillers I have read, or re-read, in long time. The author, Colin Harrison, is a former Editor of Harpers magazine and wrote a series of thrillers, all based around money and sex and set in New York. Bodies Electric being the next one I plan to revisit.

Watching-Six Years Gone on Amazon Prime Video

Not what you would call a cheerer-upper, this bleak but very compelling drama directed by Warren Dudley tells the story of Carrie, played by Veronica Jane Trickett. Pretty, young and carefree Carrie has a day off work so, after sending Lolly, her eleven year old daughter off to school, has a nap then a bit of afternoon delight with the local estate agent then pops in for a coffee and catch up with her friend. Carrie is relaxed knowing that her Mum, Mary, is going to pick up Lolly from school. Except that Mary forgets, nobody has realised that she has early onset dementia . Three hours pass before Carrie finds out that her daughter appears to have vanished off the face of the earth.

Suddenly it is six years later and Carrie looks absolutely ravaged by grief and desperation. She and Lolly had previously been living in a big house in Brighton paid for by her her ex-husband but he stops the money and she and Mary, now incontinent and needing constant care, live on a rough estate. Carrie is now working as cleaner and struggling to make ends meet. The men in her life, her ex husband and brother are noticeably absent when she needs assistance, and the police have been totally ineffective in finding missing Lolly.

What struck me most about the film is how, when spotting a young woman having the most miserable time, so many vulture-like people were circling to take advantage. From the manageress at the social club where Carrie cleans to the men who smell her desperation and take whatever they want from her, people are just out for themselves. The only kindness is from a bailiff who shows a little bit of compassion towards Carrie having recognised her name from the news. Be warned, Six Years Gone is a tough watch, there is one particularly harrowing scene, but utterly engrossing with fantastic performances, especially from Trickett and Sarah Priddy who plays Mary.

Listening to – Real Survival Stories Podcast

This is an absolutely addictive podcast and I have been known to drive around the block just to reach the end of a particular story. My favourite so far has been the two part tale Pacific Castaways . Douglas Robertson tells us how, in 1971, his family decided to embark on a trip around the globe in their yacht, The Lucette. After the vessel is attacked by a school of killer whales the seafarer’s dream trip becomes the stuff of nightmares and things just go from bad to worse. I think I would have abandoned all hope within the first ten minutes but not the Robertsons. This is absolutely compelling listening and, even after five decades have passed, Douglas still becomes emotional when recounting the events. This podcast is a Noiser production, I listened on Itunes.

Thank you for reading

Samantha

Cover Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash