Why the Pout? Why the Nails?

In my 50s, it was noticed by friends and family that I (unwittingly) pouted most times I passed a mirror and sometimes when I concentrated.  Seems it was my Signature Look.  I was teased a lot,  I rationalised this positively by telling myself that it symbolised my playful side.

I wanted to carry my pout (playfulness) through into pensionhood so I thought about how I could make this transition with Pout intact.

I encapsulated (or "branded"!) these thoughts and ideas with the tag The Pouting Pensioner.   I set up this blog account as it seemed the best vehicle for what I wanted to do.  And then I did nothing with it.  Over time I added a random selfie to my profile, then a bit of profile blurb.  Then this year I had an "If not now, when?" moment and wrote my first blog
When I went "live" I was aware that my profile selfie didn't quite say "Pout ",  and would be something to sort out when time allowed.
So, if not now, when?  Today I searched around to see if I had a photo of my pout for my profile.  Yes I did, from 2007... taken when I was candle-making.  Now, please tell me, is it "done" to use such an old shot for a profile?

On closer inspection, what jumped out at me was not that caricature of a pout but that I. Had. Nails!  I'd forgotten that I'd had proper nails as, on reflection, growth had probably slowed and it just got worse with a Serious Nail Event last summer.

The SNE involved a paintbrush cleaner product and my bare hands, which caused nail layering and tearing for the next 9 months until natural body repair and the occasional use of nail strengthening products got the nails back to normal.  However, my new normal is slow (aging) nail growth - today they barely scrape past the fingertip, unlike my talons of 2007!

During the SNE repair period (no photos, fortunately!) I've hidden my ugly growth under an occasional mix of  nail hardener and dark nail polish and used nail and hand cream when I remember, for example with products



like this

like this hardener 

and this

I've dug around for info on aging nails recently.  More serious medical conditions and nutritional issues aside, the following seem to be the most common factors inhibiting good growth (and with them I give you my completed checklist!):
Nail ridges, tick.  Age (= natural slowing down of growth), tick.  Exposure to harsh cleaning products by not wearing rubber gloves for housework, tick. Arthritic finger joints, tick.

I have tried most of the products suggested to improve growth, but one I haven't is soaking nails in olive oil for 10-15 minutes.  So I'll give it a go and will report back, just in case you too are experiencing Nail Slowdown.

In the meantime, I leave you with my top nail care tips:

1. If, like me, you never use rubber gloves for housework, leave them dangling on the sink edge as a not-too-gentle reminder.
2. If, like me, you forget to use hand cream despite there being a jar of the stuff by each sink and wash basin in the house (!), then a last-chance-location is to put a tube with your medication, if taken, or on top your bedtime book or Kindle - at the very least your hands will get a feed once a day!
3. Use darker nail polish on short nails, as magically they look longer and less stubby than in a paler shade.
4. (v. important tip) Wear rubber gloves when using paintbrush cleaner!
and 5. will be regular olive oil treatments if that works, I'll get back to you on that one.


So, that's why I put the "Pouting" in Pensioner and why I'm putting the nails in olive oil!

Do you have a Signature Look?
Do you have any nail care tips to share?

And is it ethical to use a 10 year old photo as a profile shot?!!!

A la perchoine.  

Tidy Desk, Tidy Blog, #1.

On this rainy morning (yes, again!) I enjoyed my first coffee of the day snuggled in bed, catching up with a few of the bloggers I follow.  Because I could.  

One lovely Finnish blogger had posted some of her usual beautiful photos of her amazingly Finnish home.  In one shot, I saw her immaculately tidy desk in the background, so I complimented her on it.  Then I moved on to a Swedish blogger I visit daily.  Another shot with her immaculately tidy desk in the background.  I complimented her on her tidy desk too. 

They both write super posts.  I got a-thinkin' how inspiring it must be to work at those desks.  For the first time in my life, I experienced Desk Envy.  Big time.  My mind wandered to my own desk, the desk I mostly use day-to-day, the desk I am sitting at right now .  It is the birthplace of my posts!

Now, I do try to keep this desk tidy as, for ease of use, it is slap bang in the middle of our back sitting room.  But it is subjected daily to paraphernalia and paperwork-creep.

I am uncomfortable working in a cluttered space and I realised that, of late and without too much thought, I have been pushing beyond a 6 inch radius of my laptop a plethora of items - bills and travel arrangements, notebooks (of which there are always many in my world. for I am a list addict).  Framed photos, cards, pen pots.  Diary, scented candles, beach shells ... the list seems endless.  Add to that mix the core essentials, laptop, a phone and a camera, and it is no wonder that the poor thing appears to be groaning under their collective weight.

I realised I needed to put my own house (desk) in order.   I can't say I was so inspired that I leapt out of bed.  I left the 6.00am leaping behind me when I retired.  But I did eventually get to my desk,  the good side of noon.  And tidying is what I did. 

I scooped up every item on and around the desk.  The Quatermass of cableage was tidied and taped.  The orchids were watered and their leaves cleaned.  The desky ephemera was wiped down.  I asked myself if it was vital that each item go back on the desk.  Embarrassingly, I found myself replying in the affirmative in the main, but what did go back was placed in a considered position on the desk.  (Note to self: remember to take BEFORE shots, dearie!)

This desk is a £48 auction find - long story but I got it eventually thanks to a good punter-auctioneer relationship.  It's little brass tag tells me that it was made in Spain.  I've had it for 13 years and during that time it has been in nearly every room in the house, bar one bedroom and the obvious, those being bathrooms. utility room and kitchen.  I've used it as dressing table, conservatory dining table as well as it having been a desk in several rooms before its current home.  It is versatile.  I do like it.  It is a keeper.

I am satisfied with my morning's work.  I may not have quite got there, true Scandi-style, but it is aesthetically pleasing to me.   I have two other desks in the house which are now crying out for the same treatment but I will leave those for another day (or week - for I am a procrastinator) as I have other pressing matters to which I really must attend.  Those matters being a coffee and a Sudoku ...

Of course it is a given that now inspired by my neater, cleaner, whiter desk, some pretty neat posts will be spilling out from my uncluttered mind and on to my blog, for when all said and done, surely tidy blog posts must truly be the offspring of a tidy desk.



A la perchoine.

Man, I Feel Like a Lady!

Yes, I do like to paraphrase and today I do that in my title, courtesy of Shania Twain,
because there are indeed days when
man, I feel like a Lady!

Days when I get together with this little combo.

Clarks Snakeskin nubuck heels (AW15, discontinued), 40s vintage Corde bag (lonnnng discontinued!)

I wear these accessories and I become ladylike!

First, the shoes.  The heels - they look clunky.  I thought that I would walk clunkily in them.  I don't.  I walk like a lady.  And, as last weekend has proved, they are the perfect dancing shoe, as I felt NO PAIN when I danced for hours wearing these so comfortable shoes.  I can't say that I danced like a lady in them, but I did walk quite elegantly to and from the dancefloor ... I think.

But now, on to the little bag.  I bought it about 30 years ago, at a jumble sale and at a time when you could pick up interesting things from a by-gone age.

I bought it to use as an evening bag for black-tie events.  And so it was used, a few times a year.

My liking of this bag has remained constant over time. 
I like that it is beautifully made and corded in a simple geometric shape.  

I like it's size.  It's size was determined by what a 40s lady would have carried - maybe a small address book, a coin purse, a compact and lipstick, an embroidered perfumed hanky, a house key.

I like that it's size disciplines me to carry like a lady.

So, I like it's look.  I like it's size. 

But what I really like is it's click. 

When the clasp closes it makes a deep, solid, click sound. 

The click sound that ladies' bags used to make when I was a child. 

It is an elegant, grown-up sound.  The sound that invokes memories of times when I longed to be grown-up so that I too could carry a little handbag

filled with a few well-chosen pieces of lady-like ephemera.

Fast-forward from childhood to adulthood and the reality was that the handbags of my grown-up days were much larger than those of 40s ladies, because through the years they needed to carry so much more: make up bag and John Steinbeck novel, then spare nappies and babywipes, and later a huge hairbrush and jumbo can of hairspray, a Filofax and calculator.  So it pleases me greatly that now, in retirement, I (mostly) have no need for a big clunkingly capacious handbag as I travel lighter. 

And it pleases me even more that although my ball gowns may have not seen the light of day since The Great European Heatwave of 2007, I have now re-discovered this little handbag and use it frequently. 

It is my handbag of choice.  Its size fits my new life, my new life as a Lady.  A life where I don't need to transport anything more than an iphone, a debit card (if I remember!), a lipbalm, a tissue, house and car keys.

I am more of a Lady in this little bag's presence.  I am sprinkled with Lady-dust and Lady-magic happens when we are together.

So, my suggestion to you, dear reader, is to search out a vintage handbag.  Open, then close it.  Maybe several times.  Listen to its clunky click.  Then let me know if you were able to walk away from it.  Or if you walked away with it, feeling like A Lady.

A la perchoine.

My Valentine's Gift To You

Happy Valentine's Day to You!!!

I hope you have enjoyed the day, with or without the romance Sunday is always a nice day.

I woke up to my favourite tulips on this special morning.

And to some gorgeous smelly candles.

And it kept getting better. My lunchtime treat was a crab sandwich!   I simply adore crab sandwiches. You know my view on Guernsey crab - it is

Quite Possibly (read most definitely!) The Best Crab in the World.

Black skinny jeans, black vest top, green cardi similar here, splodge scarf and silver/green necklace (all M&S).  Just realised, I'm fully kitted out in M&S!

M&S black puffa.  Ready to go out-and-about.

Then returning home to an afternoon of a-Skyping and a-typing this yer blog, dear readers. 

Now, my Crab Fest is about to hit a high.  Crab in a chilli and cream sauce with linguine. 

Total yumsville.

My recipe has evolved and tends to be a very loose arrangement, not so much a recipe as a coming together of ingredients that compliment and are to hand. 

The crab, however, is non- negotiable!

My (Valentine's) Crab with Pasta

Fry some finely chopped shallots in a mix of olive oil and butter, "and that's good butter", as my dear Mum would say as she talked through her recipe (and by that she meant Guernsey butter, naturally!).

When the shallots are softened, add some finely chopped red chilli and a little crushed garlic.  I use no more than one clove of garlic as I don't want it to overpower, I keep light-touch with the flavours to let the crab come through in all its shining glory.

Then add some brandy (1-2 tablespoons), cook that down, then add some white wine (maybe a glass full in total), adding it a bit at a time and cooking down most of it.

Add some double cream (about 250ml) and cream cheese (150g), cooking that through slowly with some grated cheese; I usually use something strong like a emmental or gruyere, mixed with a little Parmesan, reserving some Parmesan to sprinkle when serving.

You can cook up to this stage and leave the sauce to stand, if you want to prepare in advance.

Cook up some pasta.  I tend to use fresh and I like linguine or tagiatelle. 

Drain when cooked al dente but reserve some cooking liquid as I find the sauce usually needs thinning at this stage with some of the glutinous cooking liquid. 

Add flaked white crabmeat (Guernsey if you can get hold of it!) and chopped fresh coriander, reserving some of the latter for sprinkling when serving; warm through.

Taste and add lemon/lime juice and seasoning as required.

Toss the pasta well into the sauce - you need two of something pronged and long-handled to do the job well.

Sprinkle with remaining coriander and parmesan.

Serve with a simple salad.

Eat, maybe with someone you love.

You will enjoy this!

With a glass of chilled crisp white.

There you have it! I have shared with you my recipe for one of my favourite dishes.  Of all time.

It is my Valentine's Gift to you.

You are so very welcome.

A la perchoine.