Tag Archives: happiness

My Recipe

I dance, he gets the drinks

I talk, he listens

He talks, I never listen

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What Felicity Did Next?

Original Musings by Felicity Fox 

P.s I have a new Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/felicityfox.net or follow felicityfoxed on twitter. I write to order and can answer any question you have. 

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When Cinders went to the Ball

On the rare occasion when I don’t have two attachments clinging onto me, I found myself sipping Prosecco in one trendy hotspot.

Like an enthusiastic tourist, I’m taking in the sights. And there are some sights. Bottoms have made a reappearance this season, but it’s not to everyone’s taste.

I speak to anyone who talks back.

When I was footloose and fancy free, I wouldn’t have entertained chat; my place was on the dance floor. No longer a regular, I’ve become quite selective. Picking clubs and pubs is based on the ratio of chairs to persons. My heels are high and I’m used to my home comforts, you see I’m usually at home.

But I do love to dance. It gets me to the core. Thrashing about on the dance floor, moving every pound of me, that’s where I want to be. I have a somewhat violent reaction to music and I don’t care whose way I’m in. I am dancing. I do need to pace myself in between numbers though.

Resting results in random chat with lots of, randoms. Seated or leaning, you are a target.

And as I said, I’d talk to anyone. But there are some people you just shouldn’t talk to, but I can’t seem to avoid them. Walk away from boring, egocentric nut jobs, any excuse will do, but I keep talking or worse, listening.

At least if you’re the one speaking then you’re in control. Listening is overrated, you’re not in control and you’re willing the person to stop.

Berating myself, I tell myself to LISTEN!!!! I’m drifting off again. Shit I missed it, and now, I’m never going to nod, laugh and grunt at the right bits.

I’m headed to the bar. I hate this bit, I’m completely out of my comfort zone.

I don’t have a problem pushing past people to get to the dance floor, but squeezing past sweaty armpits to line up for a drink is disturbing.

I’m probably not supposed to say this out loud, but it’s at this point your senses are acutely aware of the impact of the Smoking Ban. The place stinks with no smoke screen to hide behind.

And I start to think of home.

I don’t queue for drinks. He does. I miss him right now. I’m the essence of modernity but not when it comes to queuing. I would be lying if I said I miss him when I’m out. He’s a terrible dancer. His moves are the same as a daddy longlegs; gangly and cumbersome. I dance, he gets the drinks. I talk, he listens. He talks, I never listen.

After what felt like an eternity waiting to be served, our bottle of Prosecco arrives. Nestling in its shiny bucket, my friend and I sip the bubbles. Life is good.

Glancing over my shoulder to my disgust, we were rudely interrupted by what looked liked a member of a boyband. His grumpy little hands clasped tightly round the neck, caught redhanded having a swally. Rude. I was even hurt. Not just because he was a young pint-sized little sparrow-fart, but because he had a complete disregard for this momentous occasion. Too chat without interruption, to toilet without company, to bore the pants of people telling tales about my foxes. Interruptions, even to my thoughts, are constant and this arrogant teenybopper was another interruption.

I treated him like I would my three year old. “Say you’re sorry!”
“Sorry”
“No, say it like you mean it!”
The runt of the litter offered a reluctant apology, as I scowled at him.

His over eager friends were quick to come to the rescue, offering their most sincere apologies.

It’s been a while since I’ve been chatted up, and I don’t think I’m being arrogant by saying, I was being properly chatted up here. But before the hunters sought out their prey, tales of my cubs had them dropping like flies. I should add my beautiful friend was receiving enough attention, but that’s her story. I don’t tell tales.
One by one they dropped away? People just don’t want to talk. Was it something I said? Come back, I’ve not told you the funny bit yet!

Disappointed, I hadn’t even had the chance to make up one of my tales? I love a story and the romance of a new audience. Ever since I was underage, I’d make up names and extra Curriculum activities, part of the clubbing experience ritual. It was now a pubbing experience because Cinders here likes to check out early before the natives arise.

Next up, a guy donning what looked like a customised jacket. It may have been designer, but it was horrific. A songwriter. Really? Liar. This guy liked fiction just as much as me.

“I like writing too, I said.” But first tell me about the lapels on your jacket. No man should sparkle more than a woman? Did your mammy sew them on for you? I was on fire. I had to get this guy away, I hate, hate, hate, bling on a man. I’m all for inequality when it comes to pink, sparkles and diamonds. Diamonds are a girl’s best, not a boy’s and certainly not a man’s. Matching diamond rings, I squirm at the thought. Does no one have respect for tradition? My big fat gypsy boy was sent on his way to think again. But not before I asked him about his songwriting, the liar. My humour was lost on him as he turned on me to suggest a few style pointers of his own. I don’t think my kind was his type.

Another dance with my faithful friend and we’re hitting it hard on the dance floor. Ignorant to anyone in our radius, she and I are a dynamic duo.

I’m a woman’s woman, I like to think. So I’m now talking with what I think is my own kind.
“But I totally thought you were my age!” she said.
“I am. The last time I was here I was twenty four.” I hollered, above the exceptionally loud music. They’ve definitely turned the volume up, its not what it used to be.
“You totally look my age,” she echoed.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“My age, you look my age,” she repeated.
“That’s because I am. There’s really not that big a difference between us.” I bellowed. Could someone turn the music down just a tad, I can hardly hear myself think.
“And you’ve got kids too.”
”Two.” I said, gloating.
Miraculous that. I was starting to think that there was something special about me. When I was six you were in nappies, you’re just a few laps behind me, I thought.

And then, I may as well have swapped my six inch heels for a knitted cardigan with the words:
“At your age, I was married with one on the way.” Horror crossed her face. Well, someone had to burst her bubble.
Age comes to us all, but I suppose that’s something that comes with age….

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A Fleeting Moment by Felicity Fox

© Felicity Fox
A Fleeting Moment

There’s a picture of my friend and I. A fleeting moment, but a beautiful one. Her hand grasped upon my wrist. Her day not mine, but yet she is holding me. Eyes down, not sad, consumed. She radiates, the other consumes. Few words are spoken, but it’s enough. Her gift to make each feel special, even for a fleeting moment. Watching her she leaves to court her audience. I’m grateful to have known and shared just a fleeting moment of beautiful friendship with her.

By Felicity Fox ©

Love – to my friends by Felicity Fox

I’m not going to give you wise words,
I know none.
Great loves aren’t fairytales, they’re battles.
Love is jealous, sometimes cruel and unforgiving.
Patience and kindness, words by St. Paul held up as the pinnacle, spoken at marriage.
Love – a little word, it means so much.
Find it, keep it, and work at it – it will be your life’s work and your greatest success story.
Love one another, this is my message of hope.

Love

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The Instruction Manual

The Instruction Manual

Please give the baby a 7oz bottle every four hours

There was I going to give Precious a little tipple to help with the teething.

@8:00; 12:00; 16:00 & 20:00

This child has a 24 hour clock. Either that or it’s the traffic report.

And add an extra half ounce to the bedtime bottle

Awwh ..wishful thinking that baby will sleep, bless.

In the morning, after baby has had its bottle, baby will have an hour playtime with nappy off…

Air their derrière, like I want a human sprinkler to shower my carpets.

Apply cream all over body before dressing

Whose body? This is exhausting and it’s only 9am. This rigmarole sounds like a nightmare episode from Supernanny, who by the way doesn’t have children and can close the door loudly behind her.

When do I put my makeup on, paint my nails and when will life stop orbiting round this eight pounder?

Baby will normally nap about 10ish. If crying, give baby its dummy and baby should sleep for an hour and no longer.

Well, you should have thought of that. Really, not my problem. Let sleeping dogs lie, the same goes for babies. If you want me to put a pretend nipple in baby’s mouth, disgusting as this idea is, I’ll happily stop your baby screeching, sorry communicating.

Change nappy every 3 or 4 hours roughly…

Not that I’m correcting you, but roughly, shouldn’t I be gentle with your bundle of joy, my nightmare.

Wettest half hour after feed

Isn’t that something to look forward to.

Bathtime 7pm: Lie with nappy off for half an hour

Shouldn’t I wait till baby is down? Oh, baby…

Cream to be applied all over again.

For the love of God, not again.

After last bottle, zip up in sleeping bag and cuddle for 10 minutes

Cuddle who? Time for a quickie?

Only took 5, never one to waste time.

Back to baby.

Zipped up, check.

Cuddle, check.

Rock a bye baby…dummy firmly stuck in mouth, restrained in straight jacket, GB Experience on, lights off, and put down, check.

Yes, that’s exactly how the day went. Perfect. To manual. Had a great day, thanks for asking. Precious has just been so precious.

“Did you enjoy your cocktails?”

No problem. Anytime. All you need to do is ask.

That’s nice, catching up with the girls were you?”

Great baby.

“Good for you.”

Baby’s had a good sleep…

Routine?

Like Clockwork…I’m sure baby will be fine, well, if you’re not on GMT.

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The Instruction Manual by Felicity Fox

The Instruction Manual

Please give the baby a 7oz bottle every four hours

There was I going to give Precious a little tipple to help with the teething.

@8:00; 12:00; 16:00 & 20:00

This child has a 24 hour clock. Either that or it’s the traffic report.

And add an extra half ounce to the bedtime bottle

Awwh ..wishful thinking that baby will sleep, bless.

In the morning, after baby has had its bottle, baby will have an hour playtime with nappy off…

Air their derrière, like I want a human sprinkler to shower my carpets.

Apply cream all over body before dressing

Whose body? This is exhausting and it’s only 9am. This rigmarole sounds like a nightmare episode from Supernanny, who by the way doesn’t have children and can close the door loudly behind her.

When do I put my makeup on, paint my nails and when will life stop orbiting round this eight pounder?

Baby will normally nap about 10ish. If crying, give baby its dummy and baby should sleep for an hour and no longer.

Well, you should have thought of that. Really, not my problem. Let sleeping dogs lie, the same goes for babies. If you want me to put a pretend nipple in baby’s mouth, disgusting as this idea is, I’ll happily stop your baby screeching, sorry communicating.

Change nappy every 3 or 4 hours roughly…

Not that I’m correcting you, but roughly, shouldn’t I be gentle with your bundle of joy, my nightmare.

Wettest half hour after feed

Isn’t that something to look forward to.

Bathtime 7pm: Lie with nappy off for half an hour

Shouldn’t I wait till baby is down? Oh, baby…

Cream to be applied all over again.

For the love of God, not again.

After last bottle, zip up in sleeping bag and cuddle for 10 minutes

Cuddle who? Time for a quickie?

Only took 5, never one to waste time.

Back to baby.

Zipped up, check.

Cuddle, check.

Rock a bye baby…dummy firmly stuck in mouth, restrained in straight jacket, GB Experience on, lights off, and put down, check.

Yes, that’s exactly how the day went. Perfect. To manual. Had a great day, thanks for asking. Precious has just been so precious.

“Did you enjoy your cocktails?”

No problem. Anytime. All you need to do is ask.

That’s nice, catching up with the girls were you?”

Great baby.

“Good for you.”

Baby’s had a good sleep…

Routine?

Like Clockwork…I’m sure baby will be fine, well, if you’re not on GMT.

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To One Lucky Bastard by Felicity Fox

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I wrote what I could not say to my cousin today. I’m using the term “bastard” in the traditional sense, not as an offence. He calls himself a lucky bastard….

To one lucky bastard…

As this is not my story to tell,

I’m sending it to you my cousin.

In a crowded room, you’ve always stood tall,

I’ve watched you and wondered?

I’ve seen your mum and dad proudly look on.

And I too have proudly called you my cousin.

And now I see a new family there for you as well.

You’re not a lucky bastard, we are.

Dear Such and Such

Dear such and such,

Thank you for your lovely card. So pleased was I to hear that you’re enjoying yourself and having a wonderful time. Delighted the celebrity haunt is doing well, there’s just not enough of those places coveting the market, riding on the name of a celebrity and staffed by hardworking chefs who’ll never quite live up to the name.

And like you said, you were needing a break away, a need many surely share.

You’ve been skiing? Isn’t that pleasant, I do love the snow.

The Snow Queen’s been taking to the slopes, didn’t you know? I love getting a little glimpse in the papers of her derrière on the way to work. Always lifts the spirits to see the Civil List put to good use. They’re so good for the economy. Sure the Americans don’t like France since they got rid of theirs. The Eiffel Tower? Not even comparable.

Sorry where was I?  “Paris is lovely in the Spring?” Yes, I’m sure it is. Just a short drive to Disney World.” Is that right? Lovely.

Us? No, no just like to stay at home. Honestly, yes, there’s just so much to do. Staycation they call it. There’s just so much on offer, you know! So many lovely places to see, you wouldn’t have known its been raining. Didn’t dampen the spirits. Just lovely. So many places you never knew existed, right on your doorstep. Oh, and the train, they loved the train too. With a National Trust card, there’s just so much on offer.

Yes, we’re having a great break. It’s just lovely, lots of children and playdates, each has to be returned though. But it’s lovely welcoming multiples through the door. The more the merrier. What’s another three children when you’ve got your own two? Well, it’s five but I’m not complaining.

It’s been marvellous, lovely, really lovely.

Looking forward to catching up.

Lots of love,

 

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Dear Such and Such by Felicity Fox

Dear Such and Such,

Thank you for your lovely card. So pleased was I to hear that you’re enjoying yourself and having a wonderful time. Delighted the celebrity haunt is doing well, there’s just not enough of those places coveting the market; Riding on the name of a celebrity and staffed by hardworking chefs who’ll never quite live up to the name.

And like you said, you were needing a break away, a need many surely share.

You’ve been skiing? Isn’t that pleasant, I do love the snow.

The Snow Queen’s been taking to the slopes, didn’t you know? I love getting a little glimpse in the papers of her derrière on the way to work. Always lifts the spirits to see the Civil List put to good use. They’re so good for the economy. Sure the Americans don’t like France as they got rid of theirs. The Eiffel Tower? Not even comparable.

Sorry where was I? You lost me for a moment. “Paris is lovely in the Spring?” Yes, I’m sure it is. Just a short drive to Disney World.” Is that right? Lovely.

Us? No, no just like to stay at home. Honestly, yes, there’s just so much to do. Staycation they call it. There’s just so much on offer, you know! So many lovely places to see, you wouldn’t have known its been raining. Didn’t dampen the spirits. Just lovely. So many places you never knew existed, right on your doorstep. Oh, and the train, they loved the train too. With a National Trust card, there’s just so much on offer.

Yes, we’re having a great break. It’s just lovely, lots of children and playdates, each has to be returned though. But it’s lovely welcoming multiples through the door. The more the merrier. What’s another three children when you’ve got your own two? Well, it’s five but I’m not complaining.

It’s been marvellous, lovely, really lovely.

Looking forward to catching up.

Lots of love,

FF

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