Tag Archives: cake

Aug 13 2015
20 Comments
Daily Life

Birthday (Cake)

birthdayYup, today I am another year older but not much wiser.

However, in my ongoing bid to become a responsible adult, I decided to take the bull by the horns and do something I’ve never done before.

There’s a special occasion coming up next month and after gazing at my pre-thyroid wardrobe, I realised I really do have nothing to wear.

So. Get this – I booked in for a personal stylist appointment at John Lewis. I know. Me!

I drove into town, parked up and had a coffee in the local bookstore’s cafe, ear-wigging at the French for Extreme Beginners group meeting being held next to me. Quite excruciating, but their seriousness was inspiring. They caught the waiter’s eye and yelled ‘Garcon!’ in unison. Ah.

Anyway, I arrived at the due time this morning and was quickly ushered into a little room full of mirrors. Great start. The lovely stylist made me stand up and turn around. Before I knew it, he’d pulled my loose-flowing shirt tight, showing my muffin top off in all it’s glory.

‘I see‘, he said with a certain level of gravitas.

He dashed off with a rail and I sat there for ten minutes, glaring at Cara Delevigne on the front cover of Vogue.

Against all hope though, Boy Wonder The Stylist arrived back with five garments. Each of them was perfect. Divine. Behind my heavy velvet curtain I sighed and stared at my transformed figure. The clothes were beautiful.

He was a genius. He had picked the perfect outfit. Simple, comfortable, and most importantly, stylish with flat shoes.

I paid and floated out the store on a shopping-induced high before foot-drop tripped me up and me and my John Lewis bag – clothes exquisitely wrapped in tissue – went flying outside the Apple store. Red-faced, I gathered myself together with the help of two pensioners and got back to my car in one piece.

p.s. I’m not actually 42 until 8.04pm tonight.

p.p.s. So I still have a few hours in my very early 40’s.

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Aug 01 2014
12 Comments
My Ramblings

Just Gimme The Cake (And No-One Gets Hurt)

41 and countingIt’s almost that time of the year again – whisper – hint – one more candle?

Yup, even before I’ve recovered from my 40th birthday (or to put it more starkly, the first year of my fifth decade), my 41st rolls round in less than two weeks.  Wouldn’t you know.

I’m at the very great age now that people start putting fewer candles on my cake, not more, i.e. four rather than forty. Perhaps making up the deficit with an indoor sparkler. Fire hazard? Sparing my feelings? Or just cheapskates?

And not only that, my cute, bonny wee baby turns FIFTEEN a mere week later, the effrontery. He was actually due before my birthday in 1999, but was so lazy he decided to doze off and hang around a bit longer before tidying his ‘room’, a portent of what was to come.

Anyway, with the onset of August, and the inevitable countdown to Christmas (grrr), it’s time for me to gaze at my naval once more. I do a lot of that. It doesn’t get me very far, but at least I’m seen to be trying.

So what do I wish for this birthday? Looking back at all those fruitless wishes of yesteryear (My Little Pony with the lightning strike, Cabbage Patch Doll twins, Fuzzy Felts At The Zoo), I won’t be getting my hopes up.

There are a few reasons for this:

  • I pretty much have all I could possibly want. My joy was complete when I brought my new bread-maker home a few days ago. And my new set of ceramic pans arrived this afternoon. Bliss.
  • I am grateful for all I have. Even when I hold my breath on entering The Teenager’s Lair. I’ve just been up to check – four plates, three forks (should I be worried?), a pyramid of coke cans on his windowsill, a pile of GCSE revision books stuffed into the corner and a pair of swimming trunks on the floor.
  • I have to save all my angst and energy for September, when I start my MA. I am now fully enrolled and fully scaring myself silly.
  • After it threw that curve-ball of vertigo at me a few weeks ago, MS seems to be on half-days for the summer. It won’t last, but I can pretend.
  • It’s raining. Hallay-loo-ya. Goodbye hot weather, heeeeellllllooooooo cool breezes and rain. Lots of it. Uthoff’s, begone.

Before The Official Date, I am chillaxing (ooh, get me), in the knowledge that this month will be Cake Month. Oh, and the next. It’ll be my two year Blogging Anniversary. How did that happen?

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May 05 2013
8 Comments
Symptoms and Treatment

In The Beginning, There Was Cake….

scrummy yummy cakeSome of you have asked how my whole sorry MS story started, so here is the potted version.

Like many things in my life, it began with cake.

Leaving a friend’s house after enjoying a slice (okay, two slices) of delicious cake. I turned to say, ‘thanks for the cake!’ but it came out as ‘thanks, Kate’. Odd. I tried again. Same thing.

I went home perplexed. The Teenager was away for the weekend and over the course of the next two days my speech deteriorated, I was exhausted and my balance was shot. I knew something was seriously wrong.

I eventually ended up in hospital, talking gibberish. The clues were all there. The overwhelming tiredness over the previous six months, the dodgy walking, the simplest tasks taking forever. Throw in a childhood in Scotland and a parent with MS and I guessed the rest.

I assumed I would be diagnosed there and then (ha!) but that was just the beginning. Until I had a further relapse, I was in Limboland with no idea how long I would stay there. It took a year to hear the dreaded words, ‘highly active/rapidly evolving relapsing remitting MS’.

That year was probably the worst of my life. The lumbar puncture was a vile, medieval torture, the MRIs were terrifying and I lost count of how many blood tests I had. I lay awake at night, rigid with fear, worrying about the future. A lot of people say the day they are finally diagnosed is both the best and worst day of their lives. I agree. After all the waiting, the anxiety, the fears, it was a relief to finally have some answers. But it doesn’t make it any easier.

My main priority was to keep life going on as normal as possible for The Teenager. I would sleep in the afternoons, setting my alarm so I was awake just before he got home from school, duvet tucked away behind the sofa. I hid my anxiety. I became best friends with the pizza delivery man.

Those were dark, dark days. They are behind me now and an uncertain future still lies ahead, but isn’t that true for everyone? And as for cake, well, it certainly hasn’t put me off…

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