(Despite this, I rather like them tonight. Especially now they are in bed, but they were pretty great even when they were awake. Call it a Mother's Day miracle, even though it is not Mother's Day here).
ANYWAY. The point of this post, and yes, there is one, is this:
I have just seen myself in the unforgiving, cold light of Photo Booth (I was showing M my new lipstick, very nice) and holy mother of Pokémon, I look rough. The spring brightness is here and not only are my windows shown for the smeary slattern traps they are, my face, too, is a testament to neglect, Peanut Butter Chunky KitKats and booze: puffy, grey, spotty, lots of chins. Many, many chins. Something must be done. For the next week I am going to try and do something about it, and post my feeble, ineffectual exploits every day. It will be a good exercise for me (the writing, I am not ACTUALLY going to exercise, obviously). If you have any suggestions - non expensive, non surgical, preferably - do place them in the comments. You know, stupid facemasks using household ingredients, tried and tested alternatives to the demon water, that kind of thing.
Today I will start by:
Eating some green things. Including some fruit. Sometime in the last two years I sort of went off fruit. I'm sure fruit used to be one of the things I ate most of, to the point where it eroded my tooth enamel. I must make my peace with it. There are only ever apples and bananas in the house and I repudiate the banana and all its works, so maybe I will have to start by acquiring some other fruits. Do suggest fruits, if you can think of any whose work you admire. I used to like mangoes but the Belgian ones are, without exception, rubbish. (Brussels dwellers: where do *you* find decent mangoes? Inquiring minds demand to know).
Washing all my make up brushes in case they are giving me some kind of scrofulous face disease.
Making one of these two soups: Trish's "green" or this one M recommends. I am the worst maker of soup in the world. I am the reverse soup alchemist, taking perfectly nice ingredients and reducing them to a sort of filthy, brown pond scum that tastes stridently of cumin and disappointment.
Oh GOD, yes, I suppose I ought to drink some water too. God. This will really be under sufferance. Perhaps I need to dip a toe back in the sordid underworld of the herbal infusion?
That is all. Baby steps. I will report back.