7 Days in Scotland trapped in the body of a podgy, middle-aged woman.

I know how he feels.

Monday

Arranged a tennis lesson in a fit of madness. I used to play about 20 years ago and had vaguely firm thighs so the thought of revealing any part of my body at all ever again has spurred me on to give it a go. One hour of teaching from the coach and I am wondering if the court has an oxygen tent, main problem is I can’t find out the answer as I can’t speak. No it’s not a good look hanging onto the net gasping for breath as the  coach stands next to me, arm outstretched, proferring a bottle of water. Clearly I have a long way to go.

Tuesday

Soon to be joined by Bandy & Limpy

Walking like I’ve  had a  horse between my legs for the past 20 years. Bandy and limpy.  Tennis clearly reaches the parts of the body that have been lying  dormant for decades. Blimey. This evening  Dave asks if I’d like a game? ‘Of what?’ I ask hurpling. Tennis? he says. ‘TENNIS are you joking? Look at me?’ He smirks, yeh OK then how about Scrabble?  I chose to ignore that  cheek, storing the retaliation for another time.  Watch it sunshine your time will come.

Wednesday

Dynamite has been away on holiday for 10 days but it’s her birthday today so I phone where she is staying and speak to a mutual pal. Where are you

Would have been a much better idea the tea!

going tonight? I ask. I’ll phone and buy her a big drink to wish her happy birthday. ‘Oh God’ says Duff the desperate voice ‘  don’t do that I couldn’t face it’. It’s not for you! I admonished ‘I know but Dynamite is sitting right next to me, are you drinking tonight Di?’  In the background I can hear the familiar tones muffled but definitive  of the birthday girl herself  ‘Non. No. Nein. Nicht. Never’ Put her on! I command. You sure you don’t want a big cold birthday gin and tonic? I ask. ‘Och well….why not?’ That girl has the self control of Lewis Hamilton when faced with the accelarator pedal of a very fast car. None. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Thursday

John about to sink his head into the vat

Met up with old pal John Wood for a quick drink.  John & I used to do the zoo crew a radio program which was a scream. John is a natural comedian so we soon revert to type sitting in a restaurant, eating, drinking and guffawing like a pair of old dafties.  Afterwards we decide to just head off home when John suggests one for the road. One what? Vat? Yup spot on. Having sat at the begining of the evening declaring ‘ oh aye we were wild then’ we stayed out til closing time and hatched 17 new plans for world domination of the entertainment world. Shame we won’t remember them in the morning.

Friday

Got a call at 8.30am to appear on Kaye Adams new show on BBC Radio Scotland within the hour. The topic? The idea that clothes maketh the man. Naturally being a big mouthed Aberdonian I aye have something to say on any subject.  There was no escaping the irony as I sat there in my tacky trackie bottoms,odd socks, with a slumped dog on one foot, no make-up, a surfeit of Astral cream on my face in a baggy,faded sweatshirt and expounded the sad truth that clothes do maketh  the woman.   Which as I

Photo taken as I exit studio

regarded the fright of myself in the mirror  may well be why I now broadcast dressed like Catweasel from a small dark cupboard in my home.

Saturday

7 hours and counting.

Taking the horror of my ever greying hair on board I bought a Garnier Herbalshine hair colour. Temporary covers grey for up to 6 weeks. On reading the instructions I was tempted to go to the local infirmary to apply it. Oh My God. It is as if they expecting your head to swell to the size of an elephant before passing out and experiencing some sort of fit. Nervously I read and re-read it before deciding I looked like a grey headed elephant anyway so I might  as well go ahead.  Half an hour later I appeared downstairs with completely different hair colour. As I write this I am still waiting for my husband to notice. 7 hours and counting.

Now Sunday morning and he still hasn’t noticed. He will pay.

  • A natural ball batterer it seems.

  • Kimberley

    I recall your tennis prowess Alison, playing with you at Pitstruan, 30 PLUS years ago, you served your ball directly into the groin of a male player…2 courts down…you were a natural!!!