Last night we had a guest to visit, our neighbour Henry, a three year old Welsh Terrier came to spend the evening with us and what a fun time was had by all!
It started with Big T setting the toaster on fire so through clouds of acrid smoke, two sturdy Welsh Terriers tore up and down the hall, their claws struggling to grip (ouch) the parquet floor!
Agnes was the perfect host giving Henry her bed and her favourite/only toy and they spent a very happy few hours playing, then ignoring each other and then playing again.
As it was Bonfire Night (no bonfires sadly) there were fireworks being let off randomly around the streets which Henry found a little disconcerting but all in all, it reinforced my opinion that two dogs are better than one and I’d happily have another Welsh Terrier.
It seems there’s a new word being banded around, the hottest trend (literally) and how lucky am I to be right on the cutting edge of… the menopause!
That’s right. We’ve gone from the unmentionable to flying the flag of the hot flush or flash depending on where you’re from.
Whatever the case, it’s another of those well kept secrets of ageing. No one tells you the horrors until you get there.
As with all things menstrual I’ve had an easy run (too much information?) and I was cautiously optimistic that the M Word would be the same but this hot sweating malarkey makes me feel like I’m being burned at the stake followed by itching skin and then chills in the aftermath. Where’s the fun in that?
I’ve cut back on caffeine, cut back on booze and adjusted my diet, upped my exercise and reviewed everything else. I’m holding back the weight gain… for now, but again, where’s the fun in that?!
In order to cope, phase one has seen me try black cohosh and sage coupled with lightweight bedding, a thinner duvet and everything cotton for absorption which sounds a lot like adult diapers.
My next phase, should things worsen, will be the exploration of HRT.
There are many schools of thought but what’s the point of suffering and sweating like a mad woman? Apparently with life expectancy, we now have more years without the hormones than with so perhaps it’s not a bad idea.
And so on that cheery note, I’m off to mop my glistening brow and ponder the options , secure in the knowledge that for once, I’m bang on trend!