A real tonic

I felt the urge to blog today without a firm plan in mind, so let's see where this goes. Still content as my usual hermit self, no one was more surprised to find me at the cinema on Saturday night, with a tub of Chunky Monkey, watching The Artist. I found it refreshing and surprisingly watchable given the lack of dialogue, though my friend leant over and whispered half way through "I won't be buying the soundtrack." I love old movies and the lead, Jean Du-Gorgeousness, captured the essence of Gene Kelly etal so well it was eerie. I sense a new crush coming on...

I have a quote on my kitchen pin-board: "Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, 'Holy shit! What a ride'!" This came to mind when an amazingly independent, fit and strong 80 year old in my extended family had a fall last Monday, banged her head, slipped into a coma and passed away on Sunday. This lady was getting off the mini-bus from her keep fit class. Utterly shocking. Yet, she squeezed every last bit out of her life and I know those close to her are drawing comfort from that.
 
The DDs and I were still feeling very down after recent events. Well-meaning people would say "Are you all fine now?" expecting an affirmative. I would go to say yes, but then decide I didn't have the energy to cover up, so would answer "No, still really crap, actually." Then I would add, "but I'm ok." A wise friend told me that when you are grieving, however you feel is exactly right. I love that as it takes into account we all do it differently. It didn't help that I'd not been eating properly, and as for exercise - don't make me laff. Then DD2 came down with a mystery virus, the main symptom being exhaustion, so I bought her a tonic. After two days, she announced she felt 'all zingy'. Unsure whether it was a placebo or real effect, I started taking it. (Is yucky, tastes like fruity blood.) All I can say is 'Holy vitamin shots, Batman'. My energy levels have returned to normal and I should be sponsored I have recommended it to so many people: DD1's on it and even the ex husband. So, say it with me: 'Floradix'. Blinking magic.

So DD1 and I are tackling our respective fitness levels. She wants to tone (she's 13 and perfect), while I'm trying to unleash the inner woman I seem to have eaten. Then DD1 announced she would like to be my personal trainer. Hmm.... thinks mum.... But sure enough, Monday 6am found us bounding down the stairs, hoodies up, me singing "Eye of the Tiger". DD1 gave the special withering look she reserves for me, as we set about Davina. Oh, sweet Jiminy Cricket, that woman knows how to punish. But we did it, and again this morning, though I noticed I was the one doing the coaxing today. It reminded me of 20 odd years ago when my bloke at the time was trying to get me to join his running habit (despite my plea that a rack like mine wasn't designed for pavement pounding). He forcibly unwound me from the duvet to get me onto Hampstead Heath at 5.30am with snow on the ground. There I was in hat and balaclava, and every sweatshirt he and I owned, grumbling my way around a pond as he barked encouragement from quarter of a mile away. DD1 has a lot to learn.

Finally, I saw a bargain priced Etta James's Greatest Hits online and treated myself. I love 'At Last' and put the CD on as soon as it arrived this morning. Imagine my disappointment when my favourite song didn't feature. On closer inspection of the box I discovered that Ella Fitzgerald hadn't recorded 'At Last'. Oh, well. I'm loving her too and will drop a hint to the DDs for my birthday for the one I meant to order.