Gloves at the ready

So, Boxing Day. I didn’t “go out.” I was the bigger person. I was adult about everything. On the way home from The Aunty Sue’s this morning, The Sister and I stopped off and got a nice joint of beef. We came home and I converted kilos to pounds and worked out how long the bloody thing needed to go into the oven for. We peeled vegetables and shoved it all in the oven and on the hob. The Mother arrived and we invited her in and gave her food and drink and had a not-totally-awful day. It was hard at first, all rather forced, but then we kinda relaxed into it.

The Mother surprised me massively with my Christmas presents. She managed to find “my perfume”. I have been hunting for it for a long while. Boots apparently have it (well not here - and it wasn’t at Gatwick either!!)

Very by Valentino. Possibly my favourite smell in the world. First bought for me by First Love. Maybe that is why I like it so much? Anyway, in the end I had to admit defeat when the final drop was ransacked from the bottle. I didn’t throw it away for ages so that I could keep sniffing it. When it became clear that I wasn’t going to find it again I gave in and accepted that my new scent was actually JPG “Classique” or RL “Romance” on lighter days.

But now I have Valentino back!

I have never been one of these people to scrimp on things. I have always believed in just living life and worrying about it later. In terms of perfume, I believe in giving yourself a good generous spray. When you run out, well, you run out. You buy another bloody bottle of it. It’s only a consumer good. But not this time. Ah, Valentino. Something to cherish. Oooooh! I need a good special occasion to bring it out on.

Give it a few weeks and I’ll be wearing it every day again until it runs out Lol