Love lessons from my grandmother

Love lessons from my grandmother

My grandma was quite a beauty back in the 50s. With her dark long hair and vivid brown eyes she never had a lack of admirers. Oh, she’d seen them all – the popular guys who everybody wanted to date, the shy guys who never plucked up enough courage to ask her out; and then there was one special guy – my grandad.

The tied the knot in 1953 and stayed together until my grandad died in 1991. For 38 years they had a perfect marriage, built on love and respect. They never once argued or shouted at each other.

My grandma never met anyone else. She devoted the rest of her life to her children and grandchildren. She never moved out of the house either; the house where she spent many happy years with her man.

‘How did you know grandad was the one?’ – I asked her once. ‘It was simple’ – she said. ‘A lot of guys wanted to date me but your granddad did something special. There was a severe winter one year and I didn’t have a winter coat because I couldn’t afford it. When your grandad found out, he broke into his savings and bought me one. We got married that year.’ She smiled and her eyes lit up at the memory.

That story prompted me to revisit my own dating history. Just like my grandma I’ve seen them all - there was the poet, the guy who couldn’t spell, the very tall guy, the playboy, the stalker and finally there was the guy I married. We divorced five years later.

I couldn’t help but wonder, if it was a coat in the 50s, what is the 21^st century equivalent? In the world of strong independent women, what does it take to wrap it up?

The more I was thinking about my past dating mistakes, the more I realised how lucky my grandma was. She met the perfect guy who loved and cared for her till the death parted them. By the time she was 30 she had been married for five years and had two kids. At barely 30 I was freshly divorced with a bunch of unpaid credit cards.

Lost in the world of my past failures, I walked for what felt like hours. I got my phone out to check the time. And as I swiped it to life, a familiar face smiled at me from the screen. I remembered when I took that picture; and I smiled back at him.

Suddenly the past mistakes felt like last season’s outfit – discarded and forgotten. He man who was smiling at me from the screen brings tea to bed for me, buys me a train ticket when I go back to London and makes sure my sick dad has the best treatment available. He makes me feel like a little girl and a grown woman at the same time; he inspires and challenges me; and he is always there to catch me.

The longer I was looking at his face, the more I realised how lucky I was. I had the man who loved me and wanted to spend his life with me; the man who would shield me from the winter and would give me his own coat if needed.

It took me a very long time to find him - I tried many coats on. Until one day at a Christmas party he draped his coat around my shoulders. And just like that I got my wrap.

Soulmates - concept or reality?...

Soulmates - concept or reality?...

There are things in life that I’ve not given half a thought to and therefore don’t really have an opinion about.  I don’t get why hair goes grey, completely clueless about microwaves and I’m not certain what I think about soulmates.

So when one morning on the train I read an article about soulmates (in the absence of anything better to read), for some reason I became curious; I suddenly wanted to know what defined a soulmate and what the fascination was with the concept in general.

As soon I got to a PC that morning, I put a Sherlock hat on and began serious web investigation. I started with Wikipedia and from there my obsession lasted for another 10 Google pages. Somewhere between ‘dresses for soulmates’ and yet another dating website I got bored. I’d wasted half of my day but still hadn’t found anything remotely concrete.

That night, during a Skyping session I asked my boyfriend if he believed in soulmates. His reply was skilfully vague and politically correct which left me feeling nervous and even more obsessed.

I couldn’t help but wonder, what if Mr Chateauneuf and I had already met our soulmates in our previous lives? Does it mean our relationship is doomed to be the second best? Do two people have to be soulmates in order to have a happy relationship?

That Saturday we had a family breakfast sharing a pot of freshly brewed coffee and the stories from the week before. As the boys were telling us about yet another adventure, he looked at me.

Our eyes locked. The air around us suddenly became electrified; the intensity was surging through our bodies, merging and creating the sparks. The world stopped existing.

It only lasted for a split second. We broke the eye contact, I took a sip from my cup and turned my attention to the boys’ story; I hadn’t missed a thing.

The morning activities carried on - he topped up my cup, and we moved to the usual negotiations with the boys over finishing their breakfasts. And as the family banter continued sprinkled with the laughter and hundreds & thousands, I looked at him and suddenly realised the concept didn’t matter.

We had a sparkle – no make up or high heels, not showered and still wearing the dressing gowns. Right in the middle of a family breakfast, between sips of coffee there was a sparkle.

I had no more questions and I finally put my obsession to rest.

I still don’t believe in soulmates. But in famous words of Mr Big, my newly formed opinion boils down to this: ‘I like the word soul. I like the word mate. Other than that, you got me.’

Aging - embrace it or fight it?

Aging - embrace it or fight it?

‘I am getting a Botox’ – said my girlfriend Christina over a lunch one day, as she sipped her Chardonnay. I looked up at her beautiful, smooth face wondering if she was in fact serious - she was. The week before she had her veins injected so that in 5 to 10 days the world would be presented with sexy, drop-dead-gorgeous legs. And now she set her mind on Botox.

Christina is the kindest and the loveliest girl I know. She bargained everything for a big love but the odds were not in her favour and she lost. At barely 40 she is now freshly divorced with three kids and a vast task to rebuild her self esteem, business and evidently her body.

I knew there was no point me trying to convince her not to do it, so I didn’t. Instead we merrily toasted to ‘single and fabulous’, talked shoes and scarves, and after drinking her yearly supply of wine we powered on her laptop and started researching the new exciting word in our vocabulary - Botox.

Later that day I was running a few errands and needed to pop in to Boots to get a few essentials. While browsing, I started noticing what I never saw before - all the anti-aging creams that had words on them like ‘revitalizing’, ‘pro-collagen’, ‘anti-wrinkle’ and ‘intense hydration’. I felt like I had just crossed the great divide into the world of 41+ (that’s my scary age), the world of accomplished, experienced, confident women who go on expensive holidays, drive big cars and have afternoon tea with their girlfriends’ at the Ritz. The world where I didn’t belong. Yet.

And as I was looking at various magic portions with expensive and patronising words on them that promised eternal youth, I couldn’t help but wonder, whatever happened to aging gracefully? In a vain attempt to stay young and parting with a small fortune, are we missing the point of life seasons? Why are we so scared to get old?

That night after removing all the make-up, I spent good 10 minutes staring at my face in the mirror. And the longer I was staring the more imperfections I saw. There were two faint lines on my forehead, dark circles under my eyes, a handful of blackheads on my nose and I even convinced myself that I had crow’s feet. No longer 18, I was officially a Balzac-aged woman.

So in honour of getting old, I decided to treat myself to a pamper session. Out came the big guns – full body exfoliation and subsequent generous application (well, more like smothering in this case) of body butter, feet soak and massage, face mask, fizz, Ben and Jerry and Sex and the City.

And I don’t know whether it was legendary amount of alcohol consumed or Sex and the City which always cheers me up, but that night I firmly decided to embrace this getting older business gracefully, with dignity and in a lady-like manner. After all it is inevitable and unavoidable. So with my comfy pjs on (the ones you never let your boyfriend see!) I drifted to sleep feeling most content and with a smile on my face.

The following day, on the way to work I stopped by Boots and picked up my first ever anti wrinkle cream.

Did you know…?

… that ‘footloose and fancy-free’ came all the way from 16^th century. Back then ‘fancy’ meant love and ‘fancy-free’ meant you weren’t in love with anyone. In the late 17^th century, ‘footloose’ meant you were free to go anywhere.

Today it means free, not attached to anyone.

Did you know…?

… that ‘cooking with gas’ was invented by clever marketeers in 1800s. Before gas stoves started to be available wood stoves were the standard. Now you're "cooking with gas" comes from an old advertisement for gas stoves.

Today it means working fast, making progress quickly.

Did you know…?

…that ‘armed to the teeth’ is a pirate phrase which comes from Port Royal Jamaica in the 1600's. Back then pirates only had single shot black powder weapons and cutlasses so they would carry many of these weapons at once to keep up the fight. In addition they carried a knife in their teeth for maximum arms capability.

Today it means overly well equipped, prepared; or heavily armed.

Did you know…?

… that ‘dead as a door nail’ takes its origin from the 14^th century carpentry. Back then nails were hand tooled and costly. When an aging cabin or a barn was torn down, the valuable nails would be salvaged so they could be reused in later construction.

When building a door however, carpenters often drove the nail through, then bent it over the other end so it couldn't work its way out during the repeated opening and closing of the door. When it came time to salvage the building, these door nails were considered useless, or "dead" because of the way they were bent.

Today it means obviously, definitely dead.

15 things I didn't know about boys

15 things I didn't know about boys

They say you learn something new every day and I have always been a keen pupil. My secret passion for learning translated into not so secret passion for reading. So over the years I read hundreds of books. Fiction yes, but also works on cooking, marriage, motivation, dieting, fashion and divorce (not necessarily in that order). By my early 30s I found my head and my tiny London flat cramped with more books than the British Library. I was ready to take on the world.

So when I left the security of my reading capsule to explore the planet ‘Boys’, I thought I read and knew everything there was to know about boys. But nothing I have ever read could’ve prepared me for what I discovered by myself over the past couple of years…

1.       Boys love junk food and sugary drinks. Period. As a result the negotiations about eating vegetables are very real. And exhausting.

2.       They fart. A lot and everywhere (including at the dining table). And they think it’s funny. 

3.       They love talking about poo. The age doesn’t matter, 7 or 57 – they love talking about poo and giggling.

4.       They have their own vocabulary of describing and discussing poo.

5.       They eat burgers on the toilet while taking a poo.

6.    They take a bath while the other is taking a poo. In the same bathroom.

7.       They never stop talking. They talk from the moment they wake up, while they are eating and most annoyingly - over the movies. Some even talk in their sleep.

8.       If they are not talking at you they ask you questions. Firing them like a machine gun, they don’t necessarily expect them to be answered.

9.       They use your stuff, usually without asking for permission and never putting it back.

10.       They leave cups, plates, socks, pants and toe nail clippings everywhere.

11.   They come with pets and show a lot more affection to their pets than to you. If you don’t like pets you are labelled as mean and horrible.

12.   When you take them out they are suddenly hungry, thirsty and definitely need that thing over there that costs £1.50 because that is exactly what is missing in their lives. They play with it for exactly 1 minute before getting bored.

13.   They wear the same t-shirt or a jumper for days and only surrender it to the laundry if you take it away from them by force.

14.   Showers and baths need to be a compulsory not optional – otherwise boys will go for weeks without seeing water.

15.   They play, record and watch football. They talk football. They expect you to understand it and laugh if you don’t.

The more I was learning about the world of boys, the more convinced I was that they came from another planet. I couldn’t help but wonder, if they indeed come from another planet, how on earth can we ever make our worlds meet?

Unfortunately Amazon didn’t stock books on how to interact with aliens so I was left to figure it out on my own. And as I was trawling the internet in a search of clues, I noticed a little plastic flower stuck to my desk lamp. Little Dude made it for me during one of his school trips, it was the first present he ever gave me.  

And something clicked. Football, mess and poo don’t matter. What matters is when they come up, hug you and say ‘love you’. Out of blue and for no other reason other than because they really do. Just like that I found the trigger that brings two worlds together. And I figured it out without a book.

Did you know…?

…that ‘cut to the chase’ came from the silent films in the 1920s. The films would almost always end with a chase scene, preceded by obligatory romantic storylines. According to The Phrase Finder, this phrase was written in Joseph Patrick Mcevoy's novel Hollywood Girl, 1929, as a script direction.

Today it means getting to the point, leaving out all of the unnecessary details.

Did you know…?

… that ‘wear your heart on your sleeve’ goes back to jousting matches in the middle ages. Back then knights used to wear the colours of the lady they were supporting, in cloths or ribbons tied to their arms.

Today it means to display emotions freely and openly.